Batman and Huntress
by Ninon
Summary: Batman and Huntress become partners in every sense of the word. And take on a new menace to Gotham City. Chapter 22 has now been added! Please Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Batman & Huntress**

Story Introduction

This story was inspired the events in Batman 609 and involves a romance between Batman and Huntress. I was always struck by their stormy interactions and the strong element of sexual tension between them. I wanted to see what would happen if they broke out of their love/hate relationship, and what it would be like if they were to put aside the antipathy they had towards each other and gave into the not-so-subtle attraction they display in the books.

I define this story as being "The Batverse on steroids" or the Batverse meets verity. Meaning I have added a bit more real life element that is often lacking in the DCU. I also wanted the characters to be more three dimensional….and behaving in a real world way.

I dedicate this story to everyone in the comics industry who have inspired me, But I primarily like to thank Chuck Dixon and Greg Rucka who made Huntress into one of the finest women in comic books today. They actually imbued her with intelligence, character, integrity and class. As opposed to a one-dimensional hot head. Their interpretation of the character has always been the definitive version of the character for me. I also dedicate this to Marvel scribes Fabian Nicienza and Brian Michael Bendis whose works showed and inspired me how to write comic book characters as real people.

Physical influences:

There are many men who have influenced me for Bruce "Batman" Wayne. But for the purposes of this story I am using former male model Scott King, and Pierce Brosnan's as Thomas Crowne as templates for Bruce "Batman" Wayne. For Helena "Huntress" Bertinelli I am using former Alias actress Mia Maestro.

For Offir Berger I am using former Manchester United football player David Beckham and MI-5 star Rupert Penry-Jones. Batman, Huntress, Nightwing ect.….Are all properties of DC comics.

Reviews are welcome…I would love to hear any critique on comments on how this story could be improved (ie. Made juicer). But just to let you know, before I get a ton of e-mails…yes **I know** that the current Huntress is a tribute to the pre-crisis Helena Wayne, Batman's daughter. But as the current one **isn't his daughter**, and I never saw any sort of father daughter relationship between them. I decided to treat the characters as two different entities. I took my cue from what I saw on the page, and from scribes who have written them as a man and woman who hide an all too obvious attraction behind hostilities. Though this story is inspired by the events in Batman 609 it in no way ties into any of the subsequent events in the books.

**Update….**

To answer some questions.

When the story began I planned on using Catwoman in the dream sequence (just as it was portrayed in Batman 608). However as time went on I decided that I wanted to use Selina/Catwoman and I wanted to have her know that Batman is Bruce Wayne, so I changed that adversary to Poison Ivy..

This story started out as an experiment and homage. Homage to the characters I have ever admired. And I wanted to see if I could produce the type of fan fiction story I would like to read. With rich characters and complex plots.

Sorry...yes it's been more than a year. Life and laziness has taken over, but I have not forgotten this story. And I promise you that it won't take another year to hear from me again. Thank you for your patience!


	2. Chapter 2

**The Dream**

It started out always the same. Batman was swinging between rooftops, with the ground hundreds of feet dizzyingly below him. Poison Ivy was just out in front of him her whip in one hand, clutching a briefcase of over a million dollars in cash her hands. Money she was taking from a ransom.

"Like the view?" she taunted in a provocative drawl, "It's about the only thing you'll catch tonight!"

"Don't be so sure," Batman replied.

Then it happened. His Bat line broke and he found himself falling, the ground rushing towards him at an incredible and dizzying speed. If he had been a man of faith he would have opened his mouth to say a prayer. Instead he started to scream. He would now get what he had always wanted. A reunification with his parents.

But it was not to be.

She appeared as if out of nowhere, a blur of purple lighting. Grabbing him around the waist and pulling him up until they landed on a nearby roof top.

"I can't let you die Batman," she said taking his face in her hands, "Gotham needs you. I need you." And with that she kissed him.

And he was awake. Bruce Wayne found himself sitting up in bed sweat pouring off his powerful body. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair and found himself touching the bandage wrapped around his head. He had gotten it two weeks ago after a nasty fall he had encountered after chasing after Poison Ivy.

The events had been exactly the same as what had happened in the dream except for when she had caught him. And kissed him.

Huntress.

The beautiful young vigilante whom he had been butting heads with ever since she had popped up in Gotham City years ago. He wasn't sure why she was creeping into his dreams now. Bruce climbed out of bed and reached for the housecoat sitting on a nearby chair and wrapped it around his sinewy and powerful naked form. He pulled back the windows and looked out on to the grounds of his massive estate that had been in his families name for almost four centuries. The grounds still looked frozen and cold but the snow was beginning to melt, heralding the beginning of spring.

A new beginning.

He had always made it habit of not encouraging any of the 'wannabe and copy cat vigilantes' who appeared on the scene. From time to time someone would show up in Gotham City and try and embark on a career of crime fighting. And it would always end up with Batman would shutting them down, by letting the GCPD know that this person has no affiliation with him. The GCPD would end up shutting them down. He had been tempted to do the same thing with The Huntress at first, but refrained from doing so. He saw much promise, skill and intelligence in her. She was actually quite effective in stopping criminals. The only problem with Huntress was that she was far too emotional and volatile and that could certainly be a problem. And it had been a problem on occasion. It was one of the reasons that he had never allowed her into "the family".

* * *

_It had been Robin who had first come into contact with her. The boy could not stop talking about Huntress and how amazing she was. Batman had thought nothing about it and that the boy simply had the crush on an attractive woman. That was until he had seen her himself. He had run into her one night in a fish processing plant down in the ship yards. _

_Batman had sat up in the rafters watching intently as she expertly dispatched a quartet of Mafia goons in just under two minutes. She was very good and her skills hinted of European training. Infact she was almost better than Nightwing. But unlike Nightwing whom he had taught to fight dispassionately and with objective. She moved and acted as if this were all personal. There was a rage behind what she did And that he found disturbing. Yet he was not quite certain if it was all due to her methods or other reasons that hit too close to home. She had dispatched three of them. And had the last one, the leader, bent over a table used to cut fish, his arm twisted behind his back. His other arm was out in front of him._

"_Where was the heroine destined for Frankie!" she shouted against his ear._

'_Frankie' groaned._

"_What's that?" she demanded._

"_I'm not tellin' you a damn thing."_

"_What?"_

"_Screw you." _

"_Frankie…," she began extracting her pistol from its holster, "You just made my day."_

_She pressed the muzzle against his outstretched hand and prepared to squeeze the trigger. Without a moments hesitation Batman release his Batarang knocking the pistol out of her hand. Huntress jumped back in surprise and Frankie began to rise to run. But Batman caught him in the back of the head with another batarang knocking him out cold to the ground._

_Batman launched himself off the beam spreading his cape to soften his landing._

"_What the…" Huntress said reaching for her crossbow. But stopped when she saw who it was. Batman landed on the ground just in front of her._

"_Don't." he said shortly. She stopped and looked at him in awe._

"_Well, well, if it isn't the mighty Batman," she said with a small smile, "You've finally deemed to grace me with your presence."_

"_What do you think you are doing?" he demanded._

"_I was about to get information out of him,"_

"_You were about to blow off his hand!" Batman said incredulously._

"_He was being uncooperative," she said with a gallic shrug," I was going to help him talk."_

_Batman snorted and moved away from her._

"_We can work together," she called after him._

"_No," he said shortly over his shoulder._

"_And why not?" she asked hotly._

"_I don't work with sadists," he said coolly turning back towards her._

"_Oh give me a break!"_

"_This is not a game Huntress."_

"_I don't treat it as a game," she retorted, "I am just as serious as you are."_

"_That remains to be seen," he replied, "You enjoy this too much."_

"_How can you say that you barely know me."_

"_Oh trust me I know enough. I've seen enough."_

"_You self righteous…"_

"_Look," he said cutting her short, "I will let you operate.."_

"_You're going to let me operate?" she asked incredulously, "As if you are going to stop me."_

"_Oh believe me I can stop you Huntress, Make no mistake about it. I can have you off the streets. All I need to do is let the GCPD that you are not under my protection and they will hunt you down. And I will do that if you get out of out hand."_

* * *

And their relationship hadn't improved since. Things had certainly come to a head during the NML when he had manipulated her into watching over renegade cop Petite and protecting a part of the city. He had not liked doing it the way he had. But times had been desperate and he was not in the mood to worry about hurt feelings.

Of course there was her personality. She had no problem in getting up in his face and telling him in no certain terms when she disagreed with him or thought that he was wrong. But it also, at times turned him on. Being a man of power both inside and outside costume. Bruce rarely had anyone defy him. Whether it was in the business, The JLA and certainly not by any of his underlings, Nightwing, Robin, or Oracle. She was remarkably straightforward. There was no kind of duplicity or games with her, which made her a refreshing change from having to deal with Selina Kyle or Talia Head. He had wanted to let her on the team. Really he did. But each time he opened his mouth to issue an invitation, she did something to annoy him, and he snubbed her and she defied him. It was a vicious circle.

During the two months since his convalescence Bruce had given much thought to the events and people in his life. But for some strange reason his mind kept drifting back to Huntress, And the kiss they shared in his dream sometimes after having it he would wake up-- aroused.

There was a polite knock at the door.

"Come in," Bruce called out.

The door was pushed open revealing Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's long time valet and best friend.

"Good morning Master Bruce," Alfred said cheerily. He spoke with a clipped upper class British accent that betrayed impeccable breeding. In his hand he held a silver tray containing scissors and other basic medical materials. Alfred had served in the British Royal Air Force in his younger days partly as a means of putting himself through Cambridge University. When it had come time for Bruce to persue his post secondary education he had chosen Cambridge partly due to Alfred.

"Good morning Alfred," Bruce said with a small smile.

"I'm so happy to see you up and out of bed," Alfred said smoothly, "Are you ready to remove your bandages?"

"Very," Bruce replied. He moved over to the chair and sat down. Alfred placed the tray on the nearby table and moved behind Bruce and began to remove the bandages.

"Alfred," Bruce said after a moment of quiet.

"Yes Master Bruce?" Alfred asked.

"I was wondering if you…if you could tell me what you think of my relationship with others."

"By others do you mean as CEO of Wayne Enterprises, social relations. Or your relations when it comes to your other job."

By other job Alfred meant his alter ego Batman.

"I mean my other job."

"Well sir," Alfred said releasing a deep breath, "While it is no secret that you can be quite difficult, taciturn and demanding at times. I think that we have all come to realize that your bark is worse than your bite and that you mean no harm."

Bruce smiled.

"Do you mind if I ask what has brought on this query sir,"

"Nothing," Bruce said, "I'm just thinking that maybe it's time that in light of certain events some changes need to be made."

"Ah I see," said Alfred, "You want to turn over a new leaf!"

"In a manner of speaking yes."

"And what changes would you like to make?"

"I am thinking that maybe it's time to expand the…family and open it up to new members."

"Such as?"

"Huntress."

"You think she belongs with us?" Alfred said somewhat surprised.

"Yes Alfred," Bruce replied, "She belongs with me."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Leave Israel**

In an office complex in down town Tel Aviv two men sat watching the TV. Both of them were in their early 60's. But while one of them had a stooped grandfatherly look about him. The other still had a look of vibrancy that he had held in his youth, and which he had brought with him from his days in the Israeli army.

Ezra Hod the leader of the _Tkuma _Party stepped up to the podium his fists punching the air in a victory salute. He stood before a sea of people most of them wearing black uniform of the Ultra Orthodox Jewry. The others were men wearing ordinary street clothes but on their heads were "kipa's" the small caps worn by Orthadox Jews. The mood of the crowd was exuberant in victory.

"Tonight my Friends we have been victorious!" he shouted at the crowd, "After years of wandering in the wilderness like our fore fathers we have now taken the promised land from the enemy that which was promised to us by God!" There was a thunderous roar of applause. Then Hod leaned over the lectern and looked straight into the TV camera, "And I promise that those who have sinned against Israel with their corruption will pay."

"I think he was speaking directly to you Calev," Yossi Lapid said turning to his friend of 30 years.

"That self-righteous son of a bitch," Calev Berger growled, "If the crowd only knew how he got his money. Laundering money for the Colombians in New York. Through a Synagogue no less!"

Lapid leaned forward and picked up the remote control on the coffee table before him and used it to switch off the TV. He rose to his feet and faced his friend Calev Berger.

"It's over," Yossi Lapid said bluntly to Berger before him. Calev Berger was a tall man with close cropped white hair and a hard craggy face that was handsome once.

"Like hell it is," Calev growled turning his attention to Lapid.

"Calev the time for posturing has come and gone. The party has been decimated, "You need to think of your future."

"My future is here in Israel," Calev retorted.

"No it isn't," Lapid retorted, "Not anymore. Hod has seen to that. He will come after you with everything he has. And now he has the power to do so."

"I have options.."

"Who are you referring to? No one will come to your aid not anymore especially after your falling out with Shapiro. No one will want to rescue you."

"That bastard," Calev Berger growled, "After everything I've done for him and the party."

"Yes well," Lapid replied "You know how it is when it comes to peoples political careers. There's no such thing as friendship."

"So what is my alternative?"

"You will have to leave Israel," Lapid began.

"Impossible!" Berger thundered, "This is my home!"

"Do you want to spend the rest of your natural life living in Israel from inside a jail cell. Because that is where this is headed if you don't leave and soon."

"My family helped to build this country with their own bare hands. I am a Sabra!"

"This is not the time for sentimentality Calev. You are looking at serious jail time if you are convicted. And if you are not you're reputation in this country will have been shattered. You need to leave Israel as soon as possible."

"How do you know all this?" Berger asked.

"I have friends in the right places," Lapid said pointing towards the ceiling, "Friends who are well placed to know how things are going. And I tell you my friend, the government is closing in or will be closing in very soon. The chickens are coming home to roost. You need to leave."

"How soon?"

"You should start to make discreet arrangements to be out of the country within two months."

"My assets…."

"Can be transferred. To the States if necessary."

"But where? New York?"

"No not New York. You need to go somewhere else. Some where you can start over again."

"Such as?"

"Gotham City."

"Where?" Berger asked perplexed.

"Gotham City. It's in the North east. The third largest city in America. Not as flashy or as prominent as New York. But it is far from being a backwater burg. And what more…" Lapid said leaning in closer, "It is probably the most corrupt and conservative city in the country. With a complete belief in free enterprise. You can start over again with impunity. Which is what you would like to do in the first place."

2


	4. Chapter 4

**Myth**

As soon as the alarm clock went off, Helena Bertinelli reached out, and with a strong fist smashed it down on the buzzer to silence the noise. However there was a distinctive crack, as she recognized the sound of plastic breaking. She cursed softly realizing that she would have to buy another clock. It would make the third one she had this month. But it couldn't be helped. With only two hours of sleep, She was dead tired.

For almost two months she had been involved in a constant whirlwind of activity. First there was her duties as a school teacher. Then there was her volunteer work at the Columbus Center, a drop in cultural center located in the middle of Gotham Cities 'Little Italy'. And of course there were her nocturnal duties as one of Gotham Cities vigilantes'. The Huntress.

Life had not been always been this hectic. But ever since Batman's nasty fall six weeks ago. It was as if her nights were taken up being Gotham Cities 'protector'. Of course she was not alone out on the streets protecting Gotham there was Batgirl and Robin. But as good as they were on their own. They were only kids and not exactly the type to instill instant fear in the criminal class. Certainly not the way that he did.

Batman

Huntress often envied him, how he would just show up and have them pissing in their pants. Huntress might have been good at instilling strong emotions (either hate or fear) in the Italian mob. However those emotions did not extend to other nefarious types. She would show up and try to run off some punk. And all they would do is sneer and call her a foul name. Well of course that was until she gave them an ass whipping that they would never soon forget. Such as the one she had given Carlos Cabron last night. Huntress had planned on simply frightening him away from Vittoria Colona Catholic school where he sold drugs to the kids. But since he had pissed her off royally by calling her a 'mamey'. She made a call to GCPD and made sure that they found that huge bag of crack cocaine he was carting around.

She would love to do nothing better than roll over and go back to sleep. But she couldn't. She needed to rebuild her reputation with the school board after taking off for almost three months a year ago, the principal was watching her like a hawk and waiting for her to screw up. She was a short, middle aged, frumpy, overweight woman with bright red hair, who made no secret of envying the trim and more attractive Helena. She had overheard her say more than once that she thought that Helena was too muscular. Well it's better than being soft and fat, Helena thought.

And besides she had bills to pay. The four million she had inherited when she turned 21 and returned to the US from Europe was almost gone.

Most of the money had been spent on indulgences such as her Lamborghini, upscale brownstone loft, and expensive trips. Last year she had taken a trip to Milan simply to see Cecelia Cappizzi the famous Opera singer at La Scala. There would be no such trips like that this year. Her aunt would have to do simply put up with a care package at Christmas. There was no way she could afford to visit her in Palermo this year unless, of course she won the lottery.

And then there was the cost of getting her graduate degree. It had cost her a fortune to attend GSU. Since she had lived outside of the country for so long. It did not entitle her the same rates in tuition as other students. Even though she was still an American citizen. And of course living in Gotham City was not cheap. Ever since the end of the NML, the federal government had tried to squelch its' guilt for abandoning the city by pouring in lots of federal funds. This had brought in a huge influx of people moving into the city, sending property taxes sky high.

Sighing once she rolled out of bed onto the floor. Said a quick prayer then smoothly—and expertly pumped out 400 pushups without pausing. She showered, changed had a quick breakfast and was out the door in all of the space of a half hour.

She walked the three blocks to the nearest subway station which would take her up town to the school were she subbed. The train was half full. But became packed as soon as it hit mid town Gotham. Helena vacated her seat when a woman carrying a cane and wearing a cast on her foot got on. Seeing the woman in that condition made her think of Batman.

She wondered idly how he was doing. She never thought that she could forget the feel of his bruised and broken body in her arms.

That strong and masculine presence that had such a powerful effect on her person whenever she was around him. Just lying there vulnerable before her. When she moved him from the ground to the car, she could feel all that coiled and muscled power beneath her hands. And it made her heart race. She had never touched him…not like that before. She could not help but notice that he smelled of a combination of tobacco and sandalwood. The whole experience had awoken her senses.

Of course she had run into Batman a few times while out on patrol since then. But Huntress knew that it wasn't him. Not the real him. There was no way he could have recovered that quickly from that fall. This man was too small-too slight. Batman was built like a god. There was also his disposition. This Batman was polite and gracious. Something the real one would never be—especially towards her. He was arrogant and insufferable to a fault. And she wondered how and why she put up with it. Actually she didn't, she couldn't put up with it. No way, no how. She had been raised with far more self-respect than that. And it was why she was why she couldn't bring herself to listen or obey him.

Yet, still almost for the life of her she could not understand why she still wanted to be at his side.

Or did she?

The train slowed to a stop and pulled into her station.

Helena walked into the staff lounge 15 minutes before class was scheduled to start and went straight for the coffee pot on the counter and proceeded to pour herself a cup. A group of teachers were sitting around the coffee table. A copy of the Gotham Gazzette was spread open before them.

"Can you believe it?" Cass Dixon asked, he was a middle-aged man with a salt and pepper beard. He was a veteran of the Catholic system for almost 20 years and one of her most ardent supporters. He had guided and instructed her on the internal politics at the Gotham City Catholic School board. "They finally got Cabron off the street!"

"Really?" asked Greg Ross another teacher. At was 6'3 and 230lbs with a shaved head and a scruffy beard. He looked more like biker than a Catholic High school teacher. In fact he was a former Marine and an enthusiastic believer of the printed word. She knew that he wrote part time, with aspirations to being the next Hemingway, "And how did that happen?"

"Beats the hell out of me," Dixon said, "It says here that the he was handed over to the cops. I think that Huntress had something to do with it."

"Huntress is a myth. She doesn't exist."

"What are you talking about? She was on the cover to the paper a few years ago. She was responsible for killing that Panessa mobster."

"That's all hooey. The Figment of some tabloid journalists imagination who hates the cops."

"No she isn't! I saw her picture on the cover of the papers."

"It was an artists rendering Cass. It was made up."

"They had to get it from somewhere. Someone must have seen her to draw it."

"Whatever Cass," Ross said laughing

"Hey Helena!"

Helena spun around and found Dixon and Ross looking at her.

"What's your take on the Huntress?"

"To tell you the truth Cass," she said raising the coffee cup to her lips, "I really don't think about her all that much."


	5. Chapter 5

**Distribution**

Weston was located in the lower West side of Gotham and straddled the Chinese and old Jewish neighborhoods of Gotham City. The only time that Rifkin went to that part of the city was to visit _Mr. Li Dragon Chinese _restaurant. It was one of the best Chinese restaurants in the city and known for preparing Chinese kosher cuisine. While Christians were at home eating their Christmas dinners. Gotham City Jews could be found at _Mr. Li Dragon Chinese _enjoying the succulent Chinese food. Rifkin had visited the restaurant so often that he and the proprietor, Edward Li were on a first name basis. Li's business managed to expand exponentially over the years to the point where he had opened a series of private dinning rooms on the second floor of the restaurant. And it was to one of these private rooms where Rifkin and Berger were now destined.

It was shortly after 10pm and the dinner crowd had left. Now Li was in the process of cleaning up and getting ready for the theatre crowd. However he was not so busy that he did not stop to rush over to greet them.

"Donald," he began, "How good to see you."

"Thank you Edward," Rifkin said pleasantly, "I believe we have a party waiting for us."

"Yes," Li said with a slight bow, "They are already upstairs."

"Thank you," Rifkin replied.

Li led the way through the back of the restaurant to a side door and then up a flight of stairs and down a corridor to a door on the right. Rifkin pushed open the door and entered a spacious dinning room followed by Calev Berger. It consisted of large round table that was already laden with various Chinese dishes and a sizable bottle of Jack Daniels which was already half empty.

The room was thick with the smell of cigar and cigarette smoke and the smell of Chinese food. Sitting around a large table pilled high with food were four men. Ranging in ages from their late 20's to their early 30's. They were devouring the meal and joking and laughing in Hebrew.

If Rifkin did not know them personally he certainly knew them by reputation. His contacts had supplied him with all of information on all of them. They were members of the finest fighting force of the Israeli army.

First there was Aaron Liron. He was 5'10 and 180lbs. He was lecherous, gluttonous and fancied himself a ladies man even though the only women he seemed to be associated with were women of low repute. Prostitutes and exotic dancers. Rifkin's sources told him that Liron's chief goal was of making a lot of money so that the could get into the adult entertainment industry and become either a producer or director. He was the son of a notable Israeli left wing politician. Mostly known for being loud and boisterous than any useful leadership skills. Liron was

a capable and efficient soldier but not really on par with the rest of them. However he was known for keeping the group unity and his resourcefulness in conflict resolution.

Second there was Itai Levi he was 5'8 120lbs slender and be-speckled, with a shock of red curly hair, he had spent most of his life attending a Yeshiva and had been training to be a Rabbi five years ago, until Palestinian bombers blew up a daycare near his home killing five children. One of whom happened to be his youngest sister. Levi dropped his Rabbinic studies and joined the army against the wishes of his father. Itai did so well that he quickly moved up the ranks and joined the _Sayeret_ Matkal, the elite partropper division of the IDF. He was now in the US now…trying to earn as much money as possible in order to help finance the settler group intent on expelling all Arabs from Israel proper and getting back some of the land lost to concessions. He is financial wizard of the group.

Third there was Noach Nir 6 feet tall and160 lbs. He was a swash buckler who loved danger and excitement. However he was not reckless. And was also credited with the successful hostage rescues. He is the son of Russian immigrants, who changed the family name to Hebrew to fit in more easily with Israeli society. His mother was a nurse in Tel Aviv and his father worked for a Telephone company. Ironically Nir is fascinated with superheroes and yearns to be one of them. However he loved the potential of fast money even more. Which was why he left the country and was in the group.

Fourth there was Zeev "Lobo" Saman. Of all the men there he was the only Mizrahi Jew in the room and the only one whose family was from the Middle East. He was large and powerfully built. Having won the "Mr. Israel" title three years in a row. But his size shouldn't be mistaken for lack of speed. Lobo could move with the lightning speed of a jungle predatory cat. Rifkin's source said that he had been used for special ops assignments for the army against various Arab politicians and known terrorists. Lobo was easy to use for such assignments since he had an almost pathological hate for Arabs. Since they had run his family out of Egypt during the six-day war. But the thing was that Lobo held no love for the Ashkenazi, who were the elite of Israeli society either. He hated them for the humiliation they had heaped on his father. A prominent businessman back in Egypt, but who came to Israel penniless and was forced to start over. Rifkin did not trust him at all and knew that he would have to keep a Lobo on a short leash. The only reason he was in the group was due to the insistence by Berger.

And fifth and lastly there was Ofir Berger, Calev Bergers own son. He stood, staring out the window,a glass of Jack Daniels in his hand. He was just over six feet tall 190 lbs man with a strong body, fair skinned with piercing green eyes…he had inherited his looks from his mother a Swedish fashion model whom had converted to Judaism before she had married Ofir's father Calev. The marriage had not lasted long. His repose was relaxed but wary as if he were on the prowl for danger. Indeed it was this wariness that had kept him alive during his twelve-year stint in the Israeli army. Rising in the Special operations division to the rank of Captain. Since leaving the army he had allowed his blond hair to grow out. It now hung long down to his chin framing his narrow features. Of all the men Ofir was the hardest to understand and to comprehend. Rifkin knew that Ofir was a natural leader and had served Israel loyally. But on the other hand there were aspects to the younger man that he did not understand. It was clear that he hated or at least disliked his father. Rifkin was not sure why, it could be a simple matter of jealousy and resentment for the past. Perhaps he blamed Calev for his mother taking off and leaving them when he was only two years old. Or maybe he felt the pressure of living in the shadow of one of Israel's greatest military leaders. Whatever it was Rifkin would have to make sure that he kept an eye on the younger man.

"Good evening," Calev barked like the former Colonel that he had once been, "This is the man I was telling you all about Donald Rifkin."

"Good evening Gentlemen," Donald said with a small smile taking a seat at the table, "I hope that you have settled well into Gotham City. And are enjoying your stay."

"The weather is cold," Noach blurted.

Calev gave him a withering look.

"Well it is only the end of March. Trust me the weather will heat up soon enough," said Rifkin, "Besides if all goes as planned you can be out of Gotham before the snow starts in December and settle somewhere warm."

"Like Israel," said Itai.

"If you like," said Rifkin.

"Enough talk about the weather," said Ofir turning from the window and facing the group at the table, "What's the plan?"

"The plan is for us to start distributing the product on the streets of Gotham by early next week," said Rifkin.

"Just like that?" Aaron asked.

"No. Not just like that. You have four obstacles to face," Rifkin said, "There are other factions in Gotham that need to be accounted for."

"Yes," said Itai throwing down a pad of paper with scribbled notes, "We did some reconnaissance."

"Already?" Rifkin asked mildly surprised.

"Yes of course," said Aaron, "We didn't come to be Israel's best elite fighting force by sitting on our hands."

"Of course," said Rifkin, "However there are other factors to deal with, Other major players in the city who need to be dealt with before we begin. First there is the Able Crown who controls the Burnley Massive in north Gotham. They are the biggest drug consortium in North Gotham. In fact they are the only drug consortium in North Gotham. Crown runs North Gotham like his own personal fiefdom. However in the last 18 months he has tried to go legitimate by opening a few factories and selling used computer equipment to West Africa. But due to the civil war in that part of the world he has been running short on cash and he might just be open to a business partnership that will bring him much needed capital. And then there is Don Escabado, the head of the Columbians. The man has become arrogant and self-indulgent. I think that he is ready for a rude surprise."

There was a round of laughter.

"And of course you know Sergey Safin, the head of the Russian Mob down in Little Odessa. He is a fellow Jew and from the Soviet Union. He has a MBA and a Masters degree in Economics. Mostly controls the supply to the upper class in the downtown financial district. He is a businessman at heart and I think that he will be open…to a new venture. Finally there is Pasquale Galente. The head of the Gotham City Mafia. As you all know the Cosa Nostra is not known for playing nice with non Italians. I think they will need a little lesson in cultural diversity."

"There is one more name you are forgetting," Ofir said walking over to the round table. He did not sit.

"And what name is that?" Rifkin asked politely looking up at him.

"Batman," Lobo filled in.

Rifkin grimaced.

"Ah yes the Batman," Rifkin said steepling his fingers, "Gothams most famous mascot."

"We understand that he is more than that," said Ofir, "He is much much more. He is a boogey man who keeps the criminals in check."

"Yes," said Noach, "He is a scary mother who helps out the police."

"I had no idea that you had heard so much about the Batman," said Rifkin.

"Of course we have," said Ofir barely hiding his disgust, "If we are going to operate in this city we need to know everything. And I mean everything. We leave nothing to chance."

"This is the first I am hearing about the Batman," said Calev leaning forward, "What can you tell me..us about him?"

"Well," said Rifkin pouring the Jack Daniels into a glass, "The Batman..his first sighting came about 10 years ago. Though there is no proof that he actually exists. From time to time pictures have shown up in the newspapers and on tv. But it's always a blur. But the general consensus is that he does exist."

"And what does he do?" Itai asked.

"As was mentioned before. He is sort of a bogeyman who helps to keep the criminals in check," said Rifkin.

"Like a crime fighter?" asked Aaron.

"Yes in a manner of speaking, yes," said Rifkin.

"And the police allow him to operate unimpeded?" Ofir asked.

"What I have been told is that he is so influential and helpful that the GCPD look the other way," said Rifkin.

"My God can you see this happening in Israel?" Aaron asked.

"Like I said, he doesn't officially exist," said Rifkin, "He has no police powers. Meaning he is not allowed to make arrests."

"No one has tried to stop him before?" asked Noach.

"The cops look the other way," said Rifkin.

"Why?" asked Ofir.

"He actually helps them keep the streets clean," said Rifkin.

"Or he's well protected," mused Calev.

"As rumors go," Rifkin said.

"It was quite clear that he and the previous police Commissioner Gordon were good friends. They helped turf out corrupt cops including the former mayor Marion Loeb," said Rifkin, "Gordon's retired now. But Batman still exists."

"So he has to be connected," said Itai.

"That means he can be trouble," said Lobo.

"Then you be sure to give him some trouble," Calev said leaning forwards.

"I am sure that whoever he is, A clown in a Halloween costume, should not be so easy for you to defeat," said Rifkin.

"Speaking of which," said Ofir, "What I really don't understand…is how does he operate? I mean I can understand buying political influence. But how can anyone really take someone in a costume seriously?"

"Gotham City is very unique city," said Rifkin, "The criminals are vicious and not very easily cowed. It is rumoured that's why the Batman..whoever he is…it is the reason he dresses up."

"You are not saying that we should put on costumes are you?" Noach asked.

Rifkin smiled.

"It might make things easier," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ten **

Ultimately, It was Selina Kyle who was responsible for Ofir Berger meeting Helena Bertinelli.

David Eisen, a rising real estate agent in Gotham city, found Ofir a one level bungalow with a basement in the yuppie enclave of Dorchester on the west side of Gotham. He was now introducing Ofir to a gym. Ofir could easily have set up a gym in his home. But he had always enjoyed being around other people when he worked out. And he wanted to join a gym. But he did not want to join one of the many upscale gyms that permeated the city. He wanted a place that was more low key and gritty. Like the gym he used in the barracks when he was in the army back home in Israel.

"I know the perfect place for you," David said, "It's located on the upper East side of Gotham City. It's a ten minute drive tops."

"It's not a yuppie hang out is it?" Ofir asked.

"Ofir you moved to a yuppie enclave," Eisen emphasized.

"I know," Ofir said, "But I want to work out at a gym that is tough. Not soft."

"Then you will definitely love this place. It's a boxing gym."

"Boxing gym?"

"Yes. Professional boxers and body builders use it. The place is in an abandoned factory. No carpet and the weights are even rusted. You'll love it."

"No aerobics classes?" Ofir asked, "I can't work out at a gym with aerobics classes."

"No, none at all. And there are no mechanical machines such as epilepticals or treadmills. This is completely the real raw deal."

"When can we see it?"

"Tomorrow morning. If you like. Oh and one more thing the place is owned by a guy named Mike. He's a former Navy Seal. Did four tours in south east Asia. He's the one who decides who gets in and doesn't. He hates yuppies even more than you do. He'll love you being ex-Israeli army and all."

"You belong to the gym David?" Ofir asked examining the real estate agents snazzy suit, "I mean you look as yuppie as they come."

"Yes," Eisen said colouring slightly, "I have a special relationship with Mike."

"What kind of relationship," Ofir asked suspiciously.

"Back when I was in high school. I was a nerd and got my ass kicked on a regular basis by some older boys. My dad sent me to Mike to get some boxing lessons. I guess you can say I have been a member since."

"Did the boxing lessons help?" Ofir asked curiously.

"After two weeks lessons with Mike. I beat up the group leader and they never touched me again," Eisen said proudly. Ofir laughed.

The following morning David Eisen drove Ofir Berger to Mike's gym in East Gotham. It was located on the top floor of an abandoned sewing machine factory. Ofir climbed the rickety stairs behind David. He passed two large men wearing track suits on their way down the stairs. They looked Ofir over and sneered. It was then that Ofir realized that he was over dressed for this milieu. He was wearing an expensive suit and tie. He had to go to work and meet his father when he was finished.

The gym was large and airy, it smelled of old wood, grease, rusted metal and leather. The room was filled with sounds of men grunting as they lifted heavy weights and hit the steady strum of a speedbag. Ofir knew immediately that he would like it. In the middle of the huge room was a boxing ring. Off to the left there was a weight area. And stationed along the right there were various punching bags and speed bags. David led Ofir to a long counter along the wall. Behind it stood a heavy set man who must have been in his early 60's, but he looked as if he could handle himself well enough. He was talking to a woman, of about medium height. She had short black hair and wore a long form-fitting overcoat.

"Hi Mike," David said walking up to him

"Hey Eisie!" Mike said smiling. The woman turned and looked at the two approaching men. Even with the sunglasses that covered half her face Ofir could tell that she was pretty. She had a heart shaped face and a wide mouth. Her perfume came off her body in waves and he recognized it as being, "White Diamonds".

"I have a new member for you. His name is Ofir. He's new to Gotham from Israel."

Mike gave Ofir a perfunctory once over.

"No," he said with such brusqueness that it startled Ofir, "Try The Dunfield Club. On 31st. It might be more your liking."

"Oh come on Mike," David pleaded.

"Don't oh me Mike Eisie!" Mike snapped, "You know the rules. This place is for professionals."

"Or ex-military. Ofir here used to be in the Israeli army."

Mike looked unimpressed. But it was then that the woman spoke.

"Why not Mike," she said in voice tinged with whisky, removing her sunglasses, she had blue green eyes and appeared to be in her mid 30's. "He looks as if he can handle himself. And he certainly can pay. And God knows you need the money. If you can't bring yourself to break your membership rules, then why don't you do it for me?" She fixed Mike with a look and the old man's countenance softened.

"Okay Selina," Mike said.

"You are such a sweetie," she said leaning in to give the old man a kiss on the cheek, "I have to be running."

Selina winked at Ofir put her sunglasses on and left.

Ofir stared after her in amazement. He filled out the paper work and paid he initiation fee. He suspected that it was higher than normal. But he didn't quibble. He and Eisen left determined to return the next day.

"Who was that?" Ofir asked as they made their way back down the stairs.

"You mean the woman?"

"Yeah?"

"That's Selina. Selina Kyle. She's one of the most famous socialites in Gotham City."

"Then what's she doing down here?"

"She's from the lower east side originally. But she climbed her way out. Or rather the proper term is she slept her way out. Rumour has it she used to be a prostitute and graduated to professional girlfriend. If you get my drift. She's been associated with some of the most powerful men in Gotham City. She has quite a notorious reputation. Oh and one more thing."

"What's that?"

"If you see her again don't bother trying to hit on her."

"And why not?" Ofir asked remembering her swaying behind.

"She might like your Dad. But not you. Apparently she's not into younger guys. And another thing," Eisen said with a grin, "Mike will kill you."

The following morning David and Ofir returned to the gym at around 8 am. They lifted weights then sparred in the ring for about 30 minutes. They were about to climb out of the ring and head towards the shower when Ofir thought that he saw a ghost. Moving across his field of vision was a young woman in her mid 20s' she was wearing a pair of tight black shorts and a red halter-top. Her body was soaked in perspiration outlining and defining her trim but yet still very feminine body. Her long black raven hair was tied back in a ponytail. She stopped at one of the speed bag stations and set up the speed bag she had been carrying underneath her arm. She then began to slowly hit first slowly and rhythmically then faster.

"Oh my God," Ofir whispered.

"Oh," David said over his shoulder, "That's Helena. She's a regular here. Don't even think about hitting on her. She's been no go as long as I can remember."

"Wow," Ofir murmured, but he wasn't certain if he was referring to the woman hitting the bag or someone else, "Is she Jewish?"

"No," Eisen said with a short laugh, "Italian. Not only that I understand that she used to be the daughter of a mob boss."

"Used to be?"

"Yeah, turns out that her family was massacred almost twenty years ago. All of them."

"And why did she survive?"

"Don't know. No one knows really," Eisen shrugged, "And no one dares to ask her. I have to say that she's simultaneously the hottest and coldest woman I have ever seen in my life."

"Uh-huh," Ofir nodded.

"I like to think that she's either frigid or a lesbian. You know the girl on girl…"

"That's not a lesbian David," Ofir said cutting him off.

"And how can you be sure about that?"

"I don't think that if she were a lesbian she would want to spend time in a predominantly male gym."

"Then why doesn't she pay any attention to any of the guys who work out here?"

"The reasons are varied. But it boils down to just one reason."

"And what's that?"

"Can't you see David? The woman is a _ten_."

"Of course I can see that she's a…"

"No David," Ofir said turning to face his friend, "I just don't mean that she's attractive and would be nice to take to bed. I mean she's special. She's the kind of woman that every man adores."

David tittered nervously. He had always found Ofir's intensity unsettling.

"How can you tell? She's working out on a speed bag for God's sakes!"

"I can just tell," Ofir said moving away from David and towards Helena, "I…I knew a woman like that. A long time ago."

Ofir walked over to her side and stood off to the right of her.

"Hi," he said cheerfully.

"Didn't your friend tell you anything," Helena said without stopping hitting the speed bag, "I'm not interested,"

"How can you say that? You haven't heard what I am about to say."

Helena sighed, as if weary. This was what happened each time the club took on a new member. She got hit on. She placed a hand over the speed bag to quiet it and turned to face Ofir. He smiled at her.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Ofir," he said extending his hand. Helena who was wearing boxing gloves, didn't lift hers.

"Right," Ofir said withdrawing his hand, "I just joined the club."

"I can see that," she said.

"You can?"

"Yes or else you wouldn't be bothering me. Now if you will excuse me. I'd like to finish my work out. I have to go to work."

"I'll see you around then?"

"I guess," she said coldly.

Ofir smiled.

"Maybe we can spar once in awhile?" he suggested.

"I have a trainer for that."

"Well I can save you a few dollars when you spar with me," Ofir persisted cheerfully.

"No thank you," Helena said.

"There must be something I can do to persuade you."

"No there isn't. In fact you're digging yourself in deeper."

"Well I'll dig myself out right now. I'll see you later."

Helena ignored him and was already concentrating on her speedbag again.

Ofir walked back to David who was laughing softly.

"She shot you down huh?" Don't worry she does that to everyone."

"Don't count me out yet David," Ofir said still starring at Helena, "As we say in the army. There is always a solution."


	7. Chapter 7

**Open House**

The first person Calev Berger invited into his new home in Rosewood was Donald Rifkin. Rosewood was a fashionable neighborhood located in West Gotham. It wasn't as classy as Glendale which housed the old moneyed elite of Gotham City. Instead it was seen as the home for the wealthy Jews of Gotham City. The house was newly built and Berger had just moved into it a week ago. He was already loving it.

Like everything else he did in life Calev Berger made sure that it was all done with style and flair. The house was opulently furnished and decorated. Something he would not have dared to have done back home in a quasi socialist state like Israel, And especially now that _Tkuma _had taken over. Now that he was living in America Berger felt as if he could live life as he really wanted to. In more ways than one. Before leaving he had made sure that he had informed all his contacts in the Gotham's Jewish community that he was coming. In a matter of days since he had moved in, he had been fielding invitations from prominent members of the community for dinner and parties. Never one to shun the limelight Berger was looking into a position on the Gotham chapter of the American Jewish Federation. He felt that he might be able to able to do some good there in ways he was never able back in Israel.

After the meal was finished the two men repaired to Rifkin's study.

"You really did a great job on the house Calev," Donald said with admiration sitting down on a comfortable leather chair opposite Berger's French antique desk, "It's beautiful."

"Thank you Donald," Berger replied reaching down and picking up a box on the table, "It's a culmination of what I have always wanted. And what I could never have back home in Israel."

"Yes with _Tkuma_ destroying the country."

"Don't even get me started," Berger said holding up a thick hand, "Just thinking about them gives me indigestion."

Berger picked up a thick wooden box about twelve inches long and brought it over to Rifkin,

"For you," Berger said, "Just a small token of my appreciation for all that you've done."

"For what I've done or am about to do?" Rifkin asked taking the box and opening it.

"Both," Berger said grinning.

Rifkin opened the box and whistled lowly. Inside the box lay a stack of Havana's cigars.

"How did you get these into the country?"

"My talents are numerous," Berger removing a lighter from his pants pocket, "But you know that."

He opened the lighter and offered it to Rifkin who bent forward with one of the cigars. He watched as the flame slowly consumed the tip of the cigar.

"We will need a legitimate front," said Rifkin, "Even more legitimate than what I could provide."

"And how is that? I thought that you were well known in the city."

"I am," said Rifkin, "But in the grand scheme of things I am just a little fish in a big pond. There are other more powerful forces than what I can provide. We need someone with status plenty of money and whom I can more or less trust to not meddle in our affairs."

"Who would you suggest that we approach?" Berger asked.

"Bruce Wayne," Rifkin said exhaling a plume of smoke from his cigar.

"You mean _the_ Bruce Wayne. The Billionaire?"

"The very one," Rifkin said nodding, "He's the cities most influential citizen and I happen to know him personally."

"Really?" Berger said leaning forward across his desk , "So how did you get acquainted with him. You know him being…"

"A blue blood and me being a Jew?" Rifkin asked.

"Yes."

"The man is remarkably open minded. Or at least he knows how to play the diversity card well. Whatever you call it the man has proven quite useful."

"Tell me more."

"Wayne and I have become old friends. It all started when I hired a bunch of refugees from North Korea. Stow- aways on a container ship. It was all over the newspaper. I ran interference with the US Immigration and helped them to get settled in Gotham."

"That sounds very altruistic of you Donald," Berger said with undisguised admiration.

Rifkin snorted.

"That's' what my Rabbi said. But altruism had nothing to do with it. You would not believe how hard those people work. Twice as hard and the Puerto Ricans and Blacks. And most of all they do what the hell they're told. I never have to worry about them not showing up or coming in late or goofin' off. It's almost like having robots. But cheaper."

"Hmm..so how did Wayne come into the picture?"

"When Wayne found out what I had done he introduced himself to me at some event. He said he liked what I did for the immigrants and he asked me if there was anything he could do to help. I told him sure. But-" Rifkin began leaning forwards in his chair conspiratorially, "Instead of asking him for money. I asked him if he didn't mind investing further in my Neutrino ring project. I mentioned that it would be a great way of providing jobs to the poor stow-aways. Wayne had a million dollars wired to my account that very night. No questions asked."

"Wow seems like either a generous man. Or a freyer." Freyer was an Israeli term for "Sucker."

Rifkin smiled wolfshishly.

"Either way. It will serve our purposes. With your –our venture being linked to Wayne's it will open doors in Gotham city, hell the rest of the country that would have been closed to us before."

"You have piqued my interest Donald," Berger said sitting back, "Tell me more about this Bruce Wayne. From the pictures I have seen of him in the newspapers he appears to be rather young for one so wealthy."

"Yes while he did inherit a great amount of his wealth. Wayne Enterprises has grown exponentially in leaps and bounds since he took over . he's one of corporate America's greatest success stories."

"What can you tell me about this Bruce Wayne?"

"Not much really. He lost his parents when he was a young. Tragic really."

"How so?"

"His parents where murdered when he was ten years old. Right in front of his eyes."

"My God…"

"Yes. The entire city was in shock. They were Gotham Cities most prominent and wealthiest family. Very powerful and very respectable."

"Was the killer ever caught?"

"No he wasn't. Which was what I found strange. The Gotham City police department. May be one of the most corrupt police departments in the country. But even they know which side is up. You would have thought that they would have tried to move heaven and earth to find the bastard that shot the Wayne's. But after a formal investigation nothing ever came of it. The underground word is that someone…no one knows who plotted a hit on the Wayne's. But it just seems to be that a nasty rumour no one could do anything to prove it."

"And Wayne…"

"He was virtually an orphan. He has an aunt who lives in Switzerland….You might have heard of her. Candice Worthington-Brule?"

"Yes…I think I've heard of the name. Worthington-Brule…the Swiss financier."

"Yep the very same one..it's his wife" Rifkin replied knocking some ash into a nearby ashtray, "She was young Bruce's aunt. But she seemed to have no place in her social life to look after a kid. So she left him in charge of Wayne's butler. Until Bruce was 14 years old he went away to boarding school overseas. No one ever saw him again. Though as he got older he began to pop up in the odd Gotham Celebrity mags here and there. Such as the time he was Captain of the Cambridge rowing team and led them to two wins for two years in a row against Oxford. But mostly they just report on the various famous women he courts. Actresses, socialites, models, celebrities there have even been a couple of Princess. Here and there." Then Wayne came back to Gotham at 25, 11 ago with some Wharton schooled guy in tow by the name of Lucious Fox. And took a tornado to Wayne Enterprises. He had all these new ideas and implemented new plans. Buying up all sorts of small technology companies. That no one else would have touched before. He razed the board and put Fox in charge as CEO. Apart from making money he likes to chase women, play golf and can be a demon on the polo field. He has a good head for business. Wayne Enterprises is headed by Lucious Fox. But I hear that Wayne keeps close tabs on the business. It's grown exponentially since he came on board. He's arguably the richest man in Gotham and probably one of the top 10 richest men in the country. Very influential and powerful. Even though he keeps a low profile."

"And why do you think that he will be so useful?" Calev asked.

"Right now his company is suffering a terrible loss. The CEO Lucious Fox had a heart attack some months back and is now re-cuperating at home. Wayne is filling in as CEO for the time being. Unfortunetly stocks have taken a serious tumble."

"Why?"

"Just after Fox had his heart attack. Wayne got arrested in the murder of one of his girlfriends. Stock prices fell with the news. Wayne was eventually acquitted after skipping bail, but stock prices never picked up."

"Why?"

"A couple of things. Wayne Tech has tried to launch a few technological products. But they all tanked..The Chinese and Koreans beat them to market each time with similar products made at a cheaper rate. Second Lucious Fox is known as being the genius behind the Wayne Enterprises. With Fox out of commission no one has confidence in Wayne to run his own business. First he was known as being a playboy and a rake. And second it's theorized that Wayne beat the murder rap because of his families name and money. The Wayne name has lost it's luster and Bruce Wayne needs a way to restore it."

"And you think our enterprise is the way for him to restore that luster?"

"Yes. Making discounted drugs for the third world? Of course who wouldn't be impressed?"

"When can we meet him?"

"I actually will be meeting with him later this week. I can set up a mutual meet for all of us then."

"That sounds good."

"Indeed. Calev it sounds profitable."


	8. Chapter 8

**Stepping Out**

The moment that Bruce Wayne stepped out of the limousine, He was set upon by the Gotham city paparazzi. He was solidly built, vigorous, with wide shoulders, and a smooth, long chiseled face. His eyes were a dark sapphire blue startling in their intensity. His midnight black hair was closely cropped and barely moved in the strong currents of the wind. He could have easily stepped off the screen of an old Hollywood movie, or the pages of a European fashion magazine. Instead he was the perfect model of the corporate American success and the scion of the American dream a multi billionaire who had taken his families fortune and company and doubled it in size and fortune since his return to Gotham City 12 years ago. Unofficially he was known as the 'Prince of Gotham City'. They were anxious and frantic to see how he had fared after his accident.

"Mr. Wayne how are you feeling?"

"Mr. Wayne! Wayne Tech stock has dropped almost five dollars per share. What do you think the ramifications will be?"

"Mr. Wayne is it true that you and Hollywood star Cynthia Kincaid are an item now?'

He deflected all the questions with the practiced smoothness of one who was used to public scrutiny. Or media manipulation.

He then made his way up the steps of the Hagenberg Art gallery, For the huge gala being held by the Gotham City Art Society in conjunction with the Italian American Cultural Committee of Gotham City. The Gala was being held in order to celebrate the unveiling of the latest work by the famous Italian painter Alfonso Santilli. The painting was to be donated to the Hagenberg Art Gallery and purported to be a painting which no one had yet seen.

This was Bruce's first foray into the public light ever since his car crash accident, all those months ago. Even though he probably would like to be someplace else, It was important that he attend tonight's event. All the major news outlets from home and abroad would be here tonight for the unveiling, and Bruce wanted to be here more out of business than anything else. With Lucious Fox being on sick leave there and Bruce being on the mend from his accident. The future o Wayne Enterprises seemed to be uncertain. Investors had gotten skittish the stock price began to tumble. Tonight's appearance by the Billionaire was supposed to assuage any concerns and worries that the market had. He wanted to show Bruce was healthy and back in the game, and by the same token so was Wayne Enterprises. Bruce had made other appearances throughout the week attending a hockey game with the Gotham City Ice Knights. Giving a small speech to the Gotham Chamber of Commerce. But attending this Gala event would be the _coup de grace_. Santilli was a world-renowned painter whose works fetched in the millions of dollars. He was much sought after and the fact the was donating the painting to the Hagenberg Art Gallery, and more so a painting which no one had seen yet would be the kind of thing that no one would stay away from. And if Bruce Wayne could capitalize on some of the attention why not? Especially since he was footing part of the bill for the party tonight.

Helena Bertinelli ran her fingers through her thick black hair in frustration. All evening long Alfonso Santilli—the painter—had been complaining to her about everything from his rented tux to the hot water in his hotel room to the hotel food to the security surrounding his painting. He was paranoid and obsessed that no one should be able to see his painting before the unveiling. Helena had spent the past two days since his arrival in Gotham chaperoning him around town to various events in Gotham City. Most of the events were held and hosted by the various Italian organizations and associations in Gotham. Nino Adessa the director of the Columbus Center where she ran a job search workshop for Italian immigrants twice an evening a week asked her to chaperone and serve as translator for the moody artist. She did not want to be here but she "owed" Adessa a big favour for getting her a job substitute teaching for the Catholic board. Besides Santilli was a legend and a celebrity back in Italy. And Helena realized that not even she was immune to celebrity worship. Also Santilli's name and his painting hanging in the prestigious gallery would be a great repute to Gotham's Italian community that unfortunately tended to be tainted and associated with the Mafia. Thank God she was out of that, even if it was not totally her doing. She now wished that she had been so quick to say yes. Santilli was a constant whiner and complainer-nothing she or anyone else did was right or good enough. Helena was counting down the hours then the minutes until she would be rid of him. Now that the painting had been unveiled. Her job was pretty much done. Right now Santilli was busy granting a series of important interviews to various media outlets and Helena's job as chaperone had been usurped by Claudia Reynolds (nee Visconti) who had suddenly remembered her rather rusty Italian (which she had tried to erase when she married a Gotham City blue blood)—had latched on to the Italian painter as soon as he had been introduced to her. Seeing that she was no longer needed—Helena drifted off into the packed hall in direction of the painting.

Bruce Wayne was in the process of shaking hands with Nanza Yamguchi, the president of the US branch of Komoko Tires when he saw Helena Bertinelli move across his field of vision. Even though she had her back to him. He would have recognized her anywhere. Her distinctive walk was impressed on his mind. It was how he had realized who was dressed up as Batgirl during NML. She moved with an animal like grace that he had not seen in many other women, and it excited him. He had tried to deny the affect he had had on her for years. But that was about to end. Right now. Without skipping a beat he continued his discussion with Yamauguchi but shifted his body slightly so that he could keep her in his sights. When he noticed that she had stopped near the wall where the Santilli painting was now hanging. Bruce smoothly excused himself from the Yamaguchi and slowly made his way through the crowds towards her. Stopping here and there to pump the occasional hand. Bruce had seen her throughout the evening, But she had always been in the company of Santilli or someone else. This was the first time he had seen her alone and unaccompanied. She was wearing a single black sleeveless dress that did wonders for her figure—and her raven black hair was pulled back cascading down her back like a single sheet of pure silk. Bruce longed to reach out and touch a lock of her hair and rub it between his fingers.

"Beautiful isn't it?" he asked stopping a few feet to the side of her.

Helena shrugged without turning to look at him.

"It is nice," she agreed, "I'm not quite sure if I would like to have it hanging in my home."

"Yes it is a bit odd," Bruce agreed dragging his attention from Helena to the Santilli painting, "What does he call it?"

"The sun rising over Rome?" Helena replied, "But it looks nothing like the Rome I remember."

"You've been to Rome?" Bruce asked her.

"Yes," she said finally turning to look at him. She was attractive, but not glamoursly so like the models and actress that he dated and slept with on occasion. Her attraction was more understated and more alluring.She had an almost savage grace and "earthy" look that was far more powerful than any simpering or affected elegance. He had tried to deny that allurement for years. But he wasn't going to live with that denial anymore. He wanted her and meant to have her, and not just for a night.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she were trying to place his face. But that was it. She didn't appear to react to his looks or his build.

Good, Bruce thought. He wanted her to like him for himself not for his looks or his money. But considering what he knew about her, he didn't think that a no nonsense woman such as she, would be impressed by the superficiality of a man's looks.

"I've been to Rome several times. I used to live in Italy as a child."

"I'm afraid that what I have seen of Italy has mostly been through the windows of hotel rooms. On business." He added.

Helena stared at him for a moment as if she were trying to discern something in his tone.

"That's too bad," Helena, replied, "It's a beautiful country. You should get out and see it. If you get the chance."

"I hope that I'll be able to one day," he replied, "Maybe if there's someone to show it to me. Especially the places off the beaten tourist tracks."

"There are some great tour companies," she began, "They cater to various parts and different aspects of the country."

"Different aspects," Bruce said leaning in to her and leveling her with a stare.

"I'm sorry sir I didn't catch your name Mr.-"

"Wayne!" someone called out. Bruce and Helena turned around and found Nino Adessa rushing over towards them.

"Oh sir. Thank you," Nino said grabbing Bruce by the hand and pumping enthusiastically, "Thank you for your financial support!"

"It's no problem at all," Bruce replied but his attention was still fixed on Helena.

"Mr. Wayne?" she asked finally placing his face, "As in Bruce Wayne?"

"Guilty as charged," he said giving her a million watt smile. He removed his hand out of Adessa's grip and extended it for Helena to shake. Helena did so numbly. As he leaned into her she could smell his cologne it smelled like a combination of tobacco and sandalwood.

"And you are?" he asked.

"Helena," she replied, "Helena Bertinelli."

"Nice to meet you Helena," Bruce said.

"Helena," Nino said giving her a look, "Mr. Santilli has been looking for you."

She had always suspected that Nino was a "climber" and loved nothing better than basking in the light (or was that the shadow?) of Gotham Cities celebrities. Helena wanted to do nothing more than tell Nino off for his rudeness, but she did not want to start something in front of the patrons of the event. Once again Helena began to wish that she had not said yes to volunteering for this event. Biting her tongue she said.

"Yes I guess I should go back and see how Mr. Santilli is doing. It was nice meeting you Mr. Wayne."

"Likewise Helena," he replied. He bent his head towards her blocking Nino Adessa out of the way with his massive bulk, "And it's Bruce. I hope if I ever want to see Rome. You'll be kind enough to show it to me."

Bruce watched her reaction. She looked as if she were trying to decide if there was some other implied meaning to his words. Deciding that there wasn't or that it was not worth the bother she simply nodded.

"Ah certainly. Now if you will excuse me. I'll go see to Mr. Santilli."

Helena drifted off into the crowd in search of Santilli. When she looked back she saw Nino still gushing over Bruce Wayne. But Wayne did not seem to be paying him any attention. He was still staring after her. She found Santilli who looked at her with contempt and demanded that she fetch him a drink of water. Once again Helena bit her tongue at his rudeness and drifted off in search of the bar. She had almost reached it when she saw Bruce Wayne chatting with a stunning woman in a red dress. Their eyes met and Bruce Wayne smiled at her. She smiled back, got the water and went back to Santilli. Three other times throughout the evening she had looked around and there was Wayne after her. It did not creep her out but it did make her wonder if Wayne had been coming on to her. She was well aware of his reputation as a ladies man. Whenever she saw him on TV or in the newspaper he was always had this model or that actress on his arm. She knew full well that there were several women in Gotham City who thought he was the most gorgeous man alive. And Helena had to agree apart from the fact that he was a bit older than the guys she normally was attracted to. She couldn't argue that he was definitely a handsome man with chiseled features just irregular enough to make him not too good looking. He was bigger than he appeared in newspapers, as if he lifted serious weights. And he had to have the pair of darkest blue eyes she had ever seen. But the way he had spoken to her was different from the usual lame pick up lines she received from guys. It was as if he had always wanted to meet her and had deliberately sought her out. But if so what was the reason?

4


	9. Chapter 9

**The Italians**

Pasquale "Pat" Galente smiled contentedly as he felt the 100 year old scotch hit the back of his throat. It was smooth and creamy and some of the best money could buy.

Fortunately Galente had not had not had to spend any money on the Scotch. It was part of a shipment seized by his men from the Gotham ship yards. Two days ago. From there it would be sold to various establishments around Gotham City , New Jersey and New York tri state area. Galente expected to make a tidy profit. America was certainly the land of opportunity. He had more than he had even dreamed of when he had become boss of bosses almost twenty years ago and he had gotten rid of the Bertinelli's. Gotham was his. Just as it should be.

Earlier during the evening Antonio one of his lieutenants had informed him that someone had strolled into the strip club "The Boob Tube". Some guy dressed like a pimp with some weird foreign accent--Antonio said--And informed him that they wanted a piece of Gotham's East side to peddle their drugs. Antonio had told him to get lost and had him tossed out. What the hell was Gotham coming to? Where was the respect like in the old days?

The house was quiet tonight. Actually it was quiet most nights. Now that his daughter Theresa was married, and his son Gino was away at college. There was no one normally home but him and the wife. And she was over in Italy right now visiting family. He had two men stationed outside and the cook was in her rooms in another part of the house.

So he was all alone.

It had been a long day and he really could use the rest right now. He had conducted several meetings, one with a powerful elected official whom he had to remind he held certain compromising pictures of. He had even managed to pay a visit to one of his two mistresses. Maria a little hot tamale from El Salvador with breasts like you wouldn't believe. She had bosoms like his sainted mother (God rest her soul). He prided himself at his sexual stamina even at the ripe old age of sixty-seven.

He finished the scotch and made his way up to the bedroom, changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed to get good nights sleep.

Galente woke up in the middle of the night to feel something sticky between his legs. He reached down and touched it was wet and felt thick and sticky.

And all too familiar.

"What the hell?" he murmured. He hit the switch on the bedside lamp.

He squinted against the glare of the light and gasped at what he saw on the tips of his fingers. It was blood. He didn't have to guess. He had spilt enough of it during his life to know for sure. He screamed and scrambled up to the head board and flung back the sheet. Lying in the middle of his bed was the head of Antonio his body guard.

"You like that Galente?" came a muffled voice at the far end of the room, "I got the idea from watching the _Godfather_. Great movie."

Galente looked over in the direction of where the voice came from. Sitting on a chair on the far side of the room was a huge figure dressed in some tight fitting green costum, his head in the shape of a Viper.

"I thought that you bein' Italian and all would appreciate that," And with that the Viper broke into laughter which chilled Galente to the bone.

"You're freakin' crazy!" he yelled at him.

"No Galente," someone to the right of him said, "You are the one who's crazy. Crazy to turn down our request."

Galente's snapped in the direction of the voice and saw a similarly outfitted figure, large and imposing decked out completely in black his head in the shape of a Crow.

"What request?" Galente shivered.

"We tried to negotiate with your man," the Crow said picking up the head by the hair and held it up to his face, "But he said no."

He patted the bodiless Antonio on the cheek. The head swung eerily backwards and forwards, "Bad choice. Now he's headless. And you will be too Galente unless you play nice."

"You haven't a clue who you're screwing with," Galente said as bravely as possible.

"Oh we know Galente," the Viper said leaning forwards, "We just aren't afraid of you. You rule this city because no one has the balls to stand up to you. That's done."

"Not that you can't still have your part of the city. We'll let you do that. Because we believe in _sharing. _But we are the bosses now."

"Screw you," Galante snapped.

"Screw you…." The Viper asked shocked.

The Crow dropped the head unceremoniously between Galante's legs and Galente squealed like a girl as he recoiled in horror.

"Brave words," The Viper said, "But let's see what you have to say after we cut your balls off."

"You'll be a _castrati_," the Crow chortled.

The Crow reached out behind him and pulled out a large knife.

"Pin him," The Crow ordered his comrade.

Galante tried to fight him off but he was no force for The Viper. The Viper pinned him down on to the bed, and The Viper reached for his crotch.

"Okay! Okay!" Galente screamed, "I'll do what you say!"

"Good boy," The Crow said patting Galente on the cheek, "Glad you saw the light. We will be in touch."

And they were gone.

**The Columbians**

Alejandro Sandoval picked himself up off the floor…and got another kick in his side by Alfonso, one of Don Ruiz' henchmen.

"You are behind in payment's Alejandro," Alfonso hissed, "Don Ruiz is getting tired of waiting,"

"I said," Alejandro wheezed, "You will get the money as soon the shipment comes in."

"You said that last month and the month before that and the Don is tired of waiting."

"I told you before one of my mules got caught by the DEA."

"Not our problem," Alfonso spat, "Payment is due."

"Don Escabado understood and gave me time."

"He is not in charge anymore. You got it? He's dead. Don Ruiz is in charge now. And he expects his tribute money. You work in Gotham as a privilege Alejandro. Nothing more. We have to come back for payment again we send someone to visit your Sainted mother in Bogata. Get it?"

Alejandro got another kick in his side collapsed to the ground in pain. He heard Alfonso laugh and walk away his wing tips clicking on the wet cement.

Alejandro squeezed his eyes shut tight he could not believe that he was in this predicament. Just a short time ago he was one of the most powerful drug dealer in Coventary. And now he was less than garbage. All due to the death of Emanuel Escobado. Ever since that bitch killed him. After a brief war. Ernesto Ruiz had taken over. And now Alejandro's life was next to mud. All the men who had worked for Escobar had fled to the other various drug lords, or had quit the business entirely. Alejandro due to his success had thought that he could make it on his own. But it had had not turned out to be the case. The other dealers hated him, and he had not made any friends when he had decided to sleep with a rivals wife. Don Ruiz had made it clear that he ran Coventary and anyone who wished to do business in that part of town owed him tribute money. But what Ruiz was really trying to do was to humiliate him into giving in.

Something that Alejandro refused to do. Honor would not let him, or at least that is what his father would have said.

When Alejandro opened his eyes he found a pair of boots standing before him. They were a bright yellow.

Alejandro looked up and saw a man---or what he guessed was a man---decked out from head to toe in a yellow body suit. But his head from the nose up was covered by a mask shapped like a jackal.

"How far you've fallen huh Alejandro? You were once like a prince under the hand of Don Escabado. Now you are nothing."

"Don't remind me," Alejandro said rising to his feet.

"But that could all be changed. I could put you on top where you belong. No I can do more than that. I can change things so that you are running Coventry."

"What? How?"

"I will let you know."

"With your connections. And with our muscle we will be running Coventary. I have a…product that is ten times more powerful and addictive than crack."

"What is it?"

"This," The Jackal said holding up a small vial with greenish liquid, "It's called Nocturna. And once this hits the streets it won't be able to get off. It's that's addictive and that powerful. It won't be able to get off. The money will just pour in and more to the point you will be out from under the thumb of Don Ruiz."

At once visions of Don Ruiz groveling before his feet flashed before his eyes.

"When do I start?" he asked.


	10. Chapter 10

**Seduction**

After Helena Bertinelli had finally seen Santilli to his hotel. She went to a secluded spot, changed into her Huntress uniform and spent an hour patrolling. After the evening that she had felt she had to release some stress, and she might as well do so on the criminal element of Gotham City. But the city was quiet tonight, and Huntress spent of the her time burning off stress by just running around town. She ended up returning to her loft shortly after 1 am tired and burned out. She looked forwards to soaking in the bathtub, drinking a glass of Chianti and listening to Tosca.

But it wasn't to be. As soon as she dropped through her skylight she saw him standing there in the middle of her living room.

Batman.

This time she knew it wasn't an imposter or some stand in. Not only due to the powerful build, but also due to the prescence he radiated. No one radiated as much arrogance as Batman.

She was on guard immediately. He only usually showed up to chastise or humiliate her. They had never gotten along. She couldn't abide his rudeness, his arrogance his condescension. His manipulations.

Vic Sage, also known as the Question, said that they had a father daughter relationship, because he had inspired her to become Huntress. Helena had laughed at that Freudian theory.

She didn't view Batman as a father. He had never guided her and she wasn't even close to him. Besides she had two men who had served as her Fathers and Mentors. Her cousin Sal and Uncle. Both dead now (God rest their souls). They had raised her and taught her to be the strong woman she was today.

Batman her relationship with him….was something else entirely….

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I came her to thank you," he said his deep basso voice rumbling throughout the room, "For saving my life."

Huntress could barely hide her surprise. Batman was actually thanking her. She wouldn't have expected it in a million years.

"Er…you're welcome," she said nodding. There was a tense moment of silence between them, as if neither of them knew what else to say. Whenever they had spoken in the past it had always been with hostility and acrimony.

Batman cleared his throat as if unsure how to proceed.

"I also wanted to invite you to join the group."

"What group?" she asked puzzled.

"The family…the rest of us Nightwing, Oracle, Robin, Batgirl and myself."

Huntress couldn't help but smile wryly.

"Now I see," she said, "But my question is, do you want me to join because you think I belong or as payback for what I did? Because if it's the later I don't want your charity."

"It's not charity Helena, I honestly think, I have always thought that there was a place for you amongst us."

"Have you?" she asked hotly, "You sure have a funny way of showing it! You've treated me like an outsider and dirt from the very beginning! Christ I can't forget what you did to me during No Man's Land!"

"I gave you a choice Helena-" he began.

"Oh yeah some choice," she exploded, "You deliberately humiliated me in front of Nightwing. Knowing full well that my pride and our history wouldn't allow me to follow you after that."

"I'm not going to apologize for what happened during No Man's Land Huntress,' he growled, "Those were desperate times. The city was in crisis and I needed all you had. I asked you to protect our territory and you didn't."

"I did my best all things considering," she said her voice rising as she remembered her shame from that incident.

"Yes all things considering," Batman growled, "And look how that turned out! The fact of the matter is, if you had been another type of person…well maybe I would have solicited your help. But you only seem to give your all when your ego is at stake."

"That is not true!" she snapped defiantly, "I give my all to this city almost every night! I fight for it just as hard as you and the others do. I have the scars on my body to prove it. But somehow that never seems to be enough for you!"

"It's never been enough because you just didn't behave. You've never been a team player!"

"Bull!" she exclaimed, "I've always been willing to listen to you. When you make sense. But for you it has to be 100 obedience or you're out."

"Those are the rules Huntress. Take them or leave them. We are allowed to operate in Gotham City because the city trusts me. Not Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl or even you. The only reason that you are allowed to operate in Gotham City is because the police consider you to be an extension of my group. If it was not for my consent you wouldn't be able to function."

"Well if that's the case. Then I would rather be on my own-"

But she did not get to finish her sentence because she suddenly found herself in Batman's arms and in a crushing embrace. His lips were quickly bruising hers apart his tongue searching frantically for hers. Huntress wanted to resist but found that she couldn't, her body wouldn't allow her to. A flood of emotions she had tried to suppress for years whenever she was around him came pouring out, and she found herself hungrily kissing him back.

Batman pulled back his breathing deep and ragged.

"No…no don't," she pleaded, "Please don't stop."

"Helena…" he breathed kissing her forehead, "My God how I've wanted you… How long I've longed for you."

"I've wanted the same thing," she said her voice thick.

"Oh my God," he said in astonishment.

He lowered his lips to hers and she was kissing him hungrily all over again. She placed her hand behind his cowled head to make the kiss deeper. They stayed locked like this for several minutes before Batman broke the kiss once again. He took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Not here," he said, "The bedroom."

Reluctantly they broke apart and he took her by the hand and began to lead her towards the bedroom. But she stopped him.

"What?" he asked confused.

"I want to see you first. You know who I am," she said removing her Huntress mask and revealing the earthy and sensual features of Helena Bertinelli, "And I deserve to know who you are."

Batman looked at her for a moment and deciding that she was right nodded.

"Yes you're right Helena," he said reaching up to remove his cowl, "It is high time you learned who I really am."

Helena gasped in horror as he removed the cowl and showed her his face.

"Bruce Wayne!" she exclaimed horrified backing away from him," This is some kind of sick joke!"

"No Helena it isn't.." he said quietly, "It's me. I'm Batman. The man you've fought with for years."

"No. No! This can't be!" she said backing away from him her hand reaching for her crossbow.

"Yes Helena it is," Bruce replied his eyes searching her face.

"No! You were cruising me almost the entire night I was at the Hagenberg. That lame line about showing you Italy. My God how pathetic!"

"I hope that you change your mind," he said softly, "I hope that one day you will show me Italy."

"Get your hands up in the air right now!" she shouted pointing her crossbow at him.

"Okay," he said raising both hands in the air. The expression on his face unsettled her, "Just take it easy. I can prove to you that I really am Batman."

"How?" she asked.

"I know how you got that scar in your left side," His hands were still in the air but he gestured with his chin toward her left side.

"You were shot by the Joker. After you fought like a demon to save those children. I had never been so proud of you in my entire life than I was of you then."

He stepped towards her. But she still looked unconvinced.

"Nice try but there were several people there. You could have heard that story from anyone," she said but her voice was shaky as if unsure.

"Okay then. Since actions seem to speak more louder than words with you. Let me show you something else. Proof. But in order for me to do that I have to lift my jersey."

"Okay then. But pull it up from your chest don't touch your utility belt."

"Okay," Bruce Wayne replied he placed his hands over his chest and slowly inch my inch he began to pull up the material on his jersey revealing a beautiful sculpted muscular body. Helena gasped softly. His torso was covered with small rivulets of scars that Helena knew could only come from an active life. She recognize that several of them came from knifes, "You've been in the business. You know what these scars come from. Like this one right here."

He pointed to a puckered scar just below his right pectoral.

"This scar I got from an arrow from your cross bow. I got it one night while Nightwing and I tried to capture you when you were on the run from the police. You accidentally struck me with your arrow."

Helena lowered her crossbow and reached out to touch the scar with her free hand. She could smell the same tobacco and sandalwood scent from his colone she had sensed when he approached her during the evening.

"But you know what?" Bruce asked her.

"No," she said looking up at him.

"I will never let you escape me again."

And with that he once again gathered her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

"You and I," he said briefly burying his face into her hair and inhaling deeply, "…have danced around each other for years. Being honest in almost everything except what we both wanted."

"Each other," she replied looking up into his eyes.

"That's going to end tonight Helena," he said firmly, "It ends tonight," and he kissed her again.

"Come on it's time," he murmured nuzzling her nose. He then picked her up into his arms and carried her off towards her bedroom, and placed her down on to the bed. He noticed that she was trembling.

"This isn't your first time is it Helena?" he asked gently.

"No. No it isn't but… it is my first time with you," she said.

"Our first time," he murmured against her lips, "Well then I'll have to make sure that it's memorable."


	11. Chapter 11

**Burnley **

"That's it?" Able asked, "That's all we have?"

Jerome Lewis a six foot two sharply dressed man with skin the colour of blended chocolate nodded. He wore a neatly pressed suit, his massive size he looked more like a line backer for the NFL as opposed to a finance wizard. He had played football for Morehouse College, and had returned to Gotham U to get his MBA. After graduating he had bypassed the prestigious companies in New York and Gotham to work for Able Crown and serve as his right hand man. He owed Mr. Crown a lot. It was Mr. Crown who had provided his Mother and his two sisters with a place to live after they had been evicted. And it was Mr. Crown who had taken him under his wing and taught him how to be a man.

"That's all that was wired this morning," Lewis said sliding the financial statement before Crown. Crown picked it up and read it, his face contorting first from disbelief then to outrage.

"This isn't a quarter of what he owes us!" Crown exploded.

"I know, I know. But the war…"

"I don't give a damn about the war. I have creditors climbing all over me for their money!"

"I know what you're saying but with no sales from over there….we're in a tight spot."

"Damn I knew we shouldn't have given him extended credit."

He exploded up out from his chair and turned to look out the window down onto the empty parking lot below.

"There is one way out you know…" Jerome said softly.

"No! No," Able said whirling on him, "We are not going back to that. No drugs. For the first time in years…the community is looking up again."

"But don't you see if you don't have any money you can't keep the pushers out? If drugs are going to flow in Burnley it may at least be us doing the pushing and selling not the Itays' or Columbians."

"Parasites."

"I know it. But Coochie told me that some of Galente's men came breezing into his bar the other day. All action came to a complete stop," Jerome paused, "You know what that means."

"Yeah I do," Crown said tightly, "What did Coochie do?"

"Oh you know Coochie. He told them to get out. But that's just a prelude. They'll be more of them. We need to do something and make hard decisions. Very soon."

"Okay then," Crown said with a wave of his hand, "You go on home. The business day will be starting very soon in Africa. Let me make some phone calls."

Jerome Lewis nodded and turned to leave walking down the steps from Crown's office on the top floor of a warehouse that overlooked Gotham harbour. Crown had chosen this area because it afforded him privacy, And it was out of the eye of the police.

Able Crown Controlled the Burnley Massif in North Gotham City. Unofficially he was the crime Lord of that part of the city. He had worked his way up since he was a 14-year-old punk on the streets of Gotham City first running errands for the local dealers. Until he had been entrusted to deal himself. But unlike a lot of other dealers Able was smart..he didn't blow his drug profits on women or junk. He invested it wisely. His mother had taught him the value of an education and wise spending. Not to mention good manners. By day Crown attended the city college and at night he dealt and did whatever small jobs the major dealers did. He began to work for Dock J (a.k.a. Michael Johnson) one of the major players in Gothams drug scene. With advice from Crown Dock J became the major dealer in North Gotham. Crown taught him how to invest and hide his money. And how to make alliances and hide his funds to keep it safe from the cops and the feds. Then five years later after Dock J had gotten shot in a drive by shooting. Crown had ended up inheriting his business.

But Able had bigger plans…he had no plans on selling drugs the rest of his life. He had plans on going 'legit' and on becoming a respectable businessman and most of all helping his people. He diversified in different fields investing his drug profits in various fields. Such as oil and gas and the stock market. He bought up some property in Burnley and opened a business operating a trading company.

He had used his drug profits to open a distribution and trading company with some partners he had in West Africa. Selling and shipping used computer equipment to government agencies. It wasn't going well right now but Able was looking down the road. The politicians he was in business with were visionaries like himself who were beginning to throw of the blanket of colonialism and believed that the only way for Africa to escape from being under the white mans rule was for it start doing things for itself.

Unfortunately things had come to a head when two months previously the ruler of Liberia had been killed in an assination attempt. Able was sure the coup had been orchestrated by the US government. But venting was not going to get him anywhere. Already his new business was hemorrhaging money. The organizations he had in Gotham was in need of funds. And all the money he was using in North Gotham to keep drugs and all that out of his neighborhood was starting to leak back in.

He sat in his office overlooking a shipping manifest when he heard a sound on the roof. He paused from what he was doing.

"Jerome that you?" he called.

The lights flickered and went out.

"Jerome!" Able called. Still no answer, he reached beneath the desk for the Magnum he kept hidden for such emergencies. Since he had gone legit and could afford a cadre of bodyguards. He didn't carry anymore as a matter of principle. But made sure to keep it nearby just in case. He had many enemies..men whom he knew would like to see him out of the way.

"Good evening Mr. Crown…" came the voice, it was muffled and had strange ring.

"Who the heck are you?" Able demanded.

"I am a friend," he said.

"I have no friends. Who hide behind masks."

"You do now," Crown could make out the distinctive of two horns sticking from the head.

"Batman?" he questioned. The figure laughed derisively.

"Do I look like Batman?" the figure replied coming further into the light, now Crown could see it…like Batman the man wore a mask…but it was not of a Bat it was of a fox. He was covered from head to toe in a tight red body suit..with a strange symbol in the middle.

"No..who are you?"

"Like I said I am friend. A friend who is here to help you out with your troubling business."

"I don't know you."

"But I know you. And we have a lot in common," he said, "Face it Crown. You don't own this neighborhood anymore. The Italians and Columbians are moving in. Your people are nothing but their slaves. Just like in olden times."

Able felt a cold sweat overcoming him at hearing the word "slave". He knew too well about the brutality of slave days. Even though it had been over now for 125 years, he knew what a psychological effect it had on his people. Crown had hoped to escape it, but it didn't look like the case right now. He remembered the story his grandmother told him as a child as to how she had escaped north form Mississippi after her husband his grandfather had been lynched by a gang of white men after he had tried to start a union amongst the sharecroppers. It had been a story that had remained with him throughout his life and had fueled his climb to the top. But now that all his work was slipping away, he practically felt as if the nose that slid around his grandfathers throat was slipping around his as well.

"I understand your predicament quite well. I come from people who have also been enslaved?"

"You're Black?" Crown asked in disbelief.

"Our blood is the same red underneath the skin," the Fox said cryptically, "We both have suffered at the hands of the _man _and have experienced suffering and humiliations that no human being should have to endure. We can help each other out. And thrive."

"How?"

"Like this," The Fox removed something from the belt he was wearing around his body and threw it at Crown. Crown caught it and found a small vial containing greenish liquid.

"What's this?"

"It's the answer to al of your financial troubles."

"What?"

"That drug. Is more potent than cocaine. And ten times more powerful addictive. That gets on the streets I guarantee that there won't be any lack of demand. Everyone will want it."

"What is it called?"

"Nocturna. It enhances the senses, endurance. Everything. Kids will want it to help them stay up with their studies. Workers will want it to help them keep work. Execs will want it to sharpen their minds. Geriatrics will want it to help boost their libidos. Everyone will want it. Think of the money it will bring in."

"I don't want to sell drugs. I want out of that racket."

"Let's not kid yourself Crown. Drug money built what you have. It built all this. It helped buy those computers you ship to the poor people in Africa. You don't have to be in this forever Crown. Just enough to re-coup your losses. What's the alternative? Getting pushed out by the Italians and the Columbians. You're in jam no matter how you look at it Crown. Wouldn't you want to wear the Crown and be the master of your own kingdom. Instead of a slave?"

Crown looked from the vial to the figure before him. He knew what the man said was right. He had not come this far to watch all that he had done fall apart. "The Fox" extended a gloved hand to him. And Able Crown took it and shook it firmly. He knew by doing this he was shaking hands with the devil. But he had shaken hands with the devil on another occasion too. He had done so 20 years ago when he had arranged the assassination of Doc J.


	12. Chapter 12

**MORNING AFTER**

In all her life in all her secret fantasies she had had about Batman, (and she had had many), Helena never thought that it could have been so good.

Bruce Wayne had to be without a doubt the best lover she had ever had in her entire life. Who would ever have thought that a man who could be so cold and arrogant? He had spent ages caressing and stroking every inch of her body. He had worshiped her body as if she were a goddess. Murmuring terms of endearments all the while. And when they finally came together he had never rushed his pleasure but had made sure to be mindful of hers. It was everything she had imagined and more. He was so strong and virile and tender. His body was magnificent.

But as delightful as the lovemaking itself had been. It was nothing compared to lying in his arms afterwards. And it was then that she realized that for the first time since her Uncle and Cousin had been arrested that she felt completely safe. Helena thought back to Vic's words about Batman being a father figure to her. And she realized that Vic had not been too far off the mark. The thing is she did see Batman as a father figure but not in terms of as someone to live up to.

She saw him as a father figure in terms of a provider protector. As someone who would look after her and see that she never got hurt. So she could drop the 'tough girl' façade she always wore. It was one reason she clung to Catholicism. Not out of any sense of piety but because it had always provided her comfort, especially in the tough lonely years of growing up all-alone. First on her uncles farm without peers then at a private Catholic school surrounded by snotty rich girls. Who never failed to make digs at her whether it be for her Sicilian heritage, association with the mob or height. She then thought back briefly to her one night stand with Nightwing and how after he had fallen asleep she lay in bed wondering what the hell she had just done. It had just felt so _hollow _and_ so wrong_. It wasn't what she wanted.

He wasn't Batman.

This was what she had always wanted. Batman. A man whom she imagined would protect her and keep her safe. In her heart of hearts she had always wished and imagined that this would happen one day. That she would get her man. And now that she had she felt as if she were in heaven.

"You know.." he said bending his head to lick the edge of her navel, "I have wanted to do this ever since I saw you in that new costume."

Helena snorted and let out a peel of laughter.

"God you with a sense of humour! What is the world coming to?"

"I'm about to show you," he said as his mouth began moving lower towards her pelvis.

Helena laughed again stroking his thick black hair.

"So, Bruce, what about this… Is it a one-time thing or are we going to be permanent bed partners, lovers? Sweethearts? What?"

"What would you like it to be?" he asked.

She cupped his chin in her hand forcing him to look up at her, "You know very well what I want."

"Yes I do. You want in," he replied," And I want you to be my partner."

Helena looked at Bruce for a momment..she felt as if she were burning in his dark blue gaze.

"You don't just mean….out there on the streets as Huntress do you?" she asked.

"No…"he replied running finger along her sculpted abdominals, "I want you to be my partner in every sense of the word."

"You want us to be a couple?" she asked breathlessly.

"That is if you are interested," he said slowly.

"Bruce..I…I hardly know you…"

"Oh you know me alright," he said.

"Only as a vigilante who's been hostile towards me from day one! Or as a rich spoilt jet setting playboy."

"I'm partly that. But much more. I'd like for this to be an opportunity for us to discover each other."

She reached up and touched his jaw.

"This is going to be so complicated," she said smiling.

"We're complicated," he said kissing her, "But we're also…fantastic. This is has proved it. Our past interactions have proved it. It's time to drop the wall between us Helena. And let each other inside."

He leaned in and kissed her deeply in a way that said everything.

"How long?" she asked him softly,

"How long what?" He asked.

"How long have you wanted to be with me?"

"What makes you think that I've wanted you a long time?"

"Well you said so earlier."

"True," he admitted.

"And...Everything with you is planned. I just can't believe that last night was spontaneous."

"No you're right, last night wasn't spontaneous. But it wasn't planned either. I've wanted to approach you for a long time," He looked up at her holding her is his sapphire blue eyes and added, "I've wanted you since No Man's Land."

Helena let out a small laugh and rested her head back on the pillow.

"What?" Bruce asked, "What's so funny?"

"Bruce why the hell didn't you say something?" she asked looking back at him."

"When Helena?" He asked, "Between the myriads of messages you've sent that you hate me?"

"Don't be mellow dramatic. You know that I don't hate you. Actually if there was anyone giving off messages about dislike—"

"I didn't dislike you Helena. I disapproved of your methods," Bruce said, "If I was a bit harsh…"

"Sometimes," she admitted, "But I know that I'm not always the easiest person to get along with."

"Tell me about it."

"Ugh!' she replied swatting at his shoulder. But he grabbed her arm and pinned her down on the bed. He raised himself up and kissed her deeply.

"But what was it that made you come to me now after all this time?" she asked.

"Helena. I think I think that deep down I have always been attracted to you. And I mean more than just physically. I love your honesty and your openness. And even though it bugged me at first I loved the way you at least had the courage to stand up to me. I liked that from the very beginning. But you and I just could never seem to get along."

"Because we're so different," she smiled stroking his jaw.

"No because we're the same. After the accident. After you saved my life and I almost died. I figured that there were some relationships that I wanted to make right. And my relationship with you was the most important one that I wanted to set right."

"Oh My God!" she exclaimed and he kissed her again.

"How about you?" he asked after they had parted How long have you wanted me?"

"I've wanted you since I was a teenager."

"What?" he asked surprised looking up at her.

"Ever since you rolled into that Christmas party at the Galante's ten years ago. You were so large and mythical. And so damn sexy."

"Sexy?" Bruce asked amused, "I never thought of myself as being sexy."

"Well you should," she began, "There's a lot of women both in and out of the super hero community who would love to bed you"

"Are there?" he asked amused, "In the superhero community?"

"Yes she replied, "I can't believe you've never picked up the vibes before."

"Well no—"

"And you're supposed to be the worlds greatest detective," she replied kissing him, "Actually the coldness you gave off made a lot of us think that you had some sort of…sexual problem."

"What?" Bruce began flabbergasted.

"Hey relax," she admonished gently, "Hey it's just dumb gossip-"

"I normally make it a point to never listen to gossip," he snapped.

"I know," she said kissing him, "And…I guess we had to come up with some reason why you didn't had to be a reason why you ignored most of the too obvious come ons from other women in the super hero community."

"The fact of the matter Helena is that I try not to mix business with pleasure….besides none of them really appealed to me."

"Except for me?" she asked tracing his jaw.

"Yes. Or so I tried to tell myself," he replied, "God knows I tried for years to avoid you. It was part of the reason I kept you out of the group. Because I knew that any how I let you _in_…you would end up _in_ my bed."

"And was that really such a bad thing?"

"At the time it was," he replied kissing her mid section, "I wasn't sure how I felt about you. The things I admired you for your courage, your boldness and your pride. Were the same things I disliked you for. I couldn't stand the fact that you wouldn't do what I said."

"It must have burned you up big time."

"Yes it did."

"And it burned me big time that you wouldn't accept me. Especially when I admired you so much. I couldn't figure out why you were always nasty and cruel towards me. I had enough of that in my life and I vowed to never kow tow to anyone who treated me badly ever again."

"Helena..I'm glad that you didn't."

"Why is that?"

"Because if you did I wouldn't have come to you. It's what I like about you. That you respect yourself. I wouldn't have approached you like this…I couldn't be with a woman who had no respect for herself."

"So I'm a keeper then?" she asked.

"Yes you're a keeper," he replied nuzzling her nose.

He covered her mouth with his and they stayed several lip locked for several minutes.

Helena pulled away stroking his jaw.

"Bruce…I need to ask you a question."

"What is it?"

"I'm aware of your…affairs with other women. I mean while I am sure that it's a lot of talk. I find it hard to believe that you're celibate…"

"Are you asking me if I'm involved with anyone else?"

Helena was afraid to look into his eyes in case she saw an answer she did not want to see. But she forced herself to do so anyway."

"Yes I am."

"No Helena. I am not involved with anyone else."

"What about Catwoman?"

Bruce gave a short laugh.

"No there's nothing there."

"Nothing?" she asked, "I mean rumours about you and she…."

"No there's nothing there at all. There hasn't been for some time. We used to be an item years ago. But it just never worked out," he emphasized, "There is only you. And that's why I'm here. I want to see if we're a go."

"We are," she said firmly.

He kissed her long and deep and she knew what he said was true.

"And what about me?" Bruce asked, "Do I have you all to myself?"

"I'm not involved with anyone right now if that's what you're asking."

"The last time I was in this apartment the Question was with you. I got the impression that you both were more than just friends."

"Yes we were," Helena admitted, "But that's over Bruce."

"And you and Nightwing?"

She looked at him startled.

"There is a little bit of gossip that I do listen to," he said seriously.

"That was a mistake. I've regretted it ever since. It's something we both regret," she replied firmly, "I did it for the wrong reasons. I thought that it would get me closer to you. I thought that he would be a great substitute for you. But I was wrong, there is only one you. There is no substitute."

"I just want to make sure that there isn't anything between us," Bruce said.

"There's just you," she said softly, "There's only ever been you. No matter who I've been involved with it's always been you who's been in the back of my mind. I've wondered if it would better—if we were together."

"Come here," he said gathering her into his arms and kissing her.

"I can't believe that this is happening," Helena said softly when they had finished, "That it's real."

"Oh it's real alright," he murmured kissing her, "It's real and it's what was meant to be."

And they were making love again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Morning Meeting**

The Batmobile sped along the edge of highway 27 leading out of Gotham City proper. Inside Batman, both hands firmly on the wheel, had a smile on his face.

His mind was still focused on Helena Bertinelli and how she had looked wrapped in those sheets as she stood in the middle of the living room waving goodbye as he climbed up through the skylight. Her black hair tousled, face tired but eyes still shinning with pleasure and excitement. Neither of them had gotten much sleep last night, it wasn't just a matter of sex but it was talking as well. She was remarkably bright…and Bruce hated leaving her…but right now he had more pressing matters to attend to…he had an empire to run. Not only a legacy to his parents but his ancestors who had capitalized on their wealth at the turn of the 20th century and built Wayne Industries into a global conglomerate. The last thing that Bruce wanted was for the company to go down on his watch.

This would be one of the most important days of Wayne Enterprises. It would be the launch of the Xsoft chip at Wayne Tech that would increase the speed of broad band internet services. Bruce was certain that it would be a winner and it would place them back on top.

He raced up the stairs to his bedroom took a quick shower and changed into an impeccably pressed blue Joseph Aboud suit and a light blue silk shirt and tie that had been laid out on the bed. His style said "rich" as opposed to "sharp". He did not want to and never made an effort to dress like the sharks in the business world. He liked to maintain his image as a rake and a dandy. There was no sense in breaking the illusion and letting people know just how smart he was. It was better to let the general public and the media and the rest of the business community continue to believe that the success of Wayne Enterprises and all its' subsidiaries was due to the genius of Lucius Fox and the army of business geniuses they recruited from the best schools and companies in the country. Bruce knew that if anyone had an inkling how smart he was life could become much more complicated for him. And things were already difficult as it was.

He then went down into the kitchen. Where he found Alfred busy fixing breakfast.

"Good morning Master Bruce," Alfred said smoothly placing a mauve and greenish drink down in front of him, "As I know you have an early morning meeting. I took the liberty of simply fixing you a protein beverage."

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce said gratefully.

"I didn't expect you to be out so late last night. Especially with everything expected to come down this morning. Was there any trouble sir?"

"No Alfred," Bruce said sipping at the drink and grimacing at the taste, "Actually it went quite well."

Bruce put the drink on the table and opened the newspaper. His face was featured front and center on the society pages. Underneath there was an article saying that he was the father of Carmen Dynamic's baby. Which Bruce found ironic since he had never touched her. He immediately turned to the business section and looked at article mentioning that Kruntz/Bonhoffer had turned down Wayne Technologies processor and were going with Nippon Industrial instead. Bruce cursed, it was going to be a hell of a day.

As soon as Bruce Wayne pushed the doors open in conference room B on the 15th floor he could feel the tension in the air. He found a small cadre of young executives ranging in ages from 28-34 to years of age sitting around a long oval conference table. Most of them were male, white and graduates of Ivy League schools. All of them had a MBA's a few with post doctorate degrees. All of them were hungry and ambitious. They were all joking and laughing, but the jovial chatter came to a stop as soon as he entered the room and was replaced with bright eager smiles. And a cheerful chorus of "Good mornings." Sycophants Bruce thought. He hated sycophants they tended to be phony.

"That's a nice suit Mr. Wayne," chirruped Carlton Carrington a graduate of Andover, Harvard. Bruce couldn't stand him, he was a talent less toady whom Lucious had taken on because he was his alma matter from Wharton. Bruce was grateful that he had studied in Europe and therefore did not have to dispose favoritism on anyone due to school allegiances.

"Thanks Carrington," Bruce replied," You have a stain on your tie."

Blushing furiously Carrington looked down at his tie.

The rest of them could hardly contain their smirks.

Lucy Church, Bruce's personal secretary a woman of 50 who had been helping him ever since he returned to Gotham 11 years ago stuck her head in the door and made a perfunctory search of the room checking to see if everything was in order and seeing that it was she retreated silently. Bruce sat up at the head of the table and looked carefully around the men and women in front of him.

"So what's the news?" he asked carefully.

"Not good Mr. Wayne," Robert Cunningham said passing him a file, "Here are the numbers from the xsoft chip."

Bruce opened the file and read the report. It took all the self control he had not to curse.

"This is a quarter worse than what was projected," Bruce said looking at Cunningham, "And those projections were conservative. Why?"

"The Koreans beat us…" Carrington blurted.

"They beat us how?" Bruce asked.

"They beat us to market," Cunningham said.

"The last time we discussed this everything was a go," Bruce said looking at everyone around the table, "The product launch was supposed to be scheduled for next week."

"Yes but somehow the Koreans pushed up their production schedule," said Cunningham.

"Wasn't this anticipated?" Bruce said, "It's not as if we haven't dealt with them for years. We should have pushed up ours."

"We tried…" Cunningham said.

"But?"

"But we ran into problems with some of our suppliers in Taiwan," said Karl Bergl ,"They ran into some equipment problems. Production fell behind schedule."

Bruce looked at him and decided it would be the last time he hired anyone from Andover. Bruce had gotten kicked out of Andover after getting into a nasty fist fight where he had beaten up the son of the chairman of the Republican party. The boy had almost been hospitalized and the headmaster had no choice but to expel Bruce. The boy had been at the top of the schools "food chain" and he had tried to bully Bruce into doing his laundry. Bruce had been on him like a tiger. It had been just after his parents had died and Alfred and his Aunt Caroline had shipped off there where he could grow up with boys his own age. She had no idea that Bruce had stopped being a boy the moment his parents had been shot.

It was at times like this that Bruce wish he could cut loose the way that Lucius did. Lucious had no qualms or problems bawling out a subordinate for screwing up. But Bruce couldn't do that because he was supposed to be the "nice guy". God if they only knew. Bruce pushed back his chair and rose to his feet.

"This is not good enough ladies and gentlemen. I want results not excuses. We need to get this product to market. We will discuss this again first thing in the morning. And I expect to hear some good news."

Bruce stood looking out at the view of Gotham. He was mad enough to spit nails. The quarterly results would be out next month and Wayne stock would take another hit in share prices. It would be the 4th straight hit the company had taken in a row. He needed a way out.

Suddenly there was a soft beep interrupting his thoughts. He reached out and pressed the button on the speaker phone.

"Yes Lucy?" he asked.

"Mr. Wayne your 11 o'clock appointment is here."

"Yes thanks Lucy," Bruce said turning and rising to put on his suit jacket. He had almost forgotten about this meeting, "Send him in."

Moments later the door opened and a slim well-dressed man with a five o'clock shadow entered the room. It was Donald Rifkin a very prominent Gotham City financier and businessman.

"Donald," Bruce said coming out from behind his desk and stepping forwards to shake his hand.

"Hello Bruce," Donald said pumping his hand, "I'm glad that you agreed to see me on such short notice."

"No problem at all, "said Bruce, "How's Emily and the kids?"

"They're all doing well. Emily sends her love, and wonders when you're going to come by for dinner."

"You know me," Bruce said walking back behind his desk and taking a seat, "My evenings are completely full."

"You can bring her along if you like."

Bruce gave him his patented Bruce Wayne grin, "I don't think she'd fit in."

"You don't have to stand on ceremony with us. I'm not Gotham City old money."

Rifkin was known as a prominent leader in Gotham Cities prominent Jewish community. Which happened to be the 3rd largest Jewish city in the country. Right behind New York and Los Angeles. His family had arrived in the US virtually penniless from Poland during the 1920's, and had started up a thriving manufacturing business, that was still in existence to this day and was run by Rifkin's brother. Rifkin had come to Bruce's attention when he had donated a great portion of his money to hire illegal immigrants and have them settled in Gotham City. Over the years the men had become great friends.

"Besides," Rifkin continued, "There's someone I would really like you to meet."

"Oh and who's that?" Bruce asked leaning back in his chair.

"He's an Israeli. You may have heard of him, Calev Berger. He's looking to make Gotham City his new home."

"You mean Berger? As in Apotix pharmaceuticals?" Bruce asked.

"Yes," Rifkin said smiling, "That's the one. He's moved to Gotham."

"I wasn't aware of that."

"Oh yes. He's been here almost a month. Tensions in the Middle East are rising. And the political climate back home in Israel is not exactly business friendly. Calev would like to move his operations and head office to Gotham."

"That's nice. It would be great for the city."

"Yes it would be," Rifkin paused dramatically, "And I really think that it would be great for you as well."

"And how so?" Bruce asked.

"I can't help but notice Bruce, the wave of misfortune that you've experienced over the last two years. First Lucius' heart attack, your arrest for the death of Vesper Fairchild, then the board trying to oust you, and your accident. You've had more than one man can certainly handle."

"I have broad shoulders," Bruce joked. But on the inside he was burning with rage at the humiliations.

"No man should be required to bear that kind of burden alone. I've never forgotten Bruce what you did for my company when I was down on my luck. Or what you and your family have done for the Jewish community here in Gotham, when no one else would even look at us, much less do business with us."

"Really Donald it's nothing…"

"No Bruce it isn't. That's why I'm here today. To return the favour."

"How?" Bruce asked slowly.

"I am sure that you are well aware of the fine reputation that the Berger name carries not just within the Pharmaceutical industry but throughout the world as well. They've developed and provided drugs for third world. If it was not for them many lives would be lost."

"Yes I'm aware of what they've done and achieved. They have a great reputation."

"Yes they do. And they can lend their good name to your companies."

Bruce was at once interested. He leaned forwards slightly in his chair.

"How's that?"

"As you know doing business in Israel is vastly different from doing business in the US. Israel was built more as a socialist economy and not that welcome to…capitalist expanse. He has several ongoing projects that he couldn't place into development back home. Partly due to financial reasons. Partly due to politics. I think that if you were to link your manufacturing resources at Wayne Chemicals along with the developments from his company. Then it would be a win-win on both sides."

"This sounds interesting Donald," Bruce said fascinated, "I'd like to discuss this some more."

"Why don't we get together and meet," Rifkin said, "We can have an informal meeting over breakfast say.. Tuesday?"

"That sounds wonderful Donald," Bruce said smiling, "I'll have let my people know."


	14. Chapter 14

**Lunch **

"Okay so that covers chapter 7," Helena Bertinelli said closing the text book, and regarding the group of 26 12 & 13 year olds sitting before her dressed in their Catholic school uniforms. "So, who can tell me about Act III of Othello."

No one lifted their hands.

"Oh come on," she chided in mock seriousness, "Didn't anyone read it last night?"

No answer.

"Christine?" she asked looking at a girl who sat in the second row.

"Uh no Ms. Bertinelli.."

"How about you Berto?" she said to the boy who sat behind her

"No Ms. Bertinelli," the boy stammered.

Suddenly the bell rang and everyone scrambled for their belongs.

"Ah-ah-ah," she said lifting a hand, "Not so fast. I expect those chapters to be read for tomorrow. Berto, Tommy and Christine will you will start off by leading the class in a dramatization of act four scene one of Othello. Understand?"

"Yes Ms. Bertinelli," they chimed in unison

"Now go on and get out." Helena sighed and gathered her books together. The kids today had no interest in learning.

Vittoria Colona Catholic school, was home to a mix of Hispanic, second generation Italians a few other ethnic groups. Most of them came from working class homes where their parents worked in the nearby factories and automotive parts plants. They were for the most part good kids, who tried hard. They just needed a little bit of motivation. But that could be hard since they had so many other things vying for their attention such as video games, the internet and TV. It was a much different experience than the one she had. Books and learning had been a refuge from the loneliness she experienced growing up on her uncle's farm. Then from the taunts and ridicule she experienced during the years she had attended an exclusive Swiss boarding school. Even today she could still count books as being her best friends. She just wished that she could pass this love onto her students.

Suddenly there was the gentle chime of 'Toreador' going off from her cell phone. She retrieved it from her purse.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi it's me," came a deep sexy voice on the other end, it sent shivers up her spine.

"Bruce!" she exclaimed.

"You've been on my mind all morning. I can't stop thinking about last night."

"Me neither," she said looking around and hopping that no was eavesdropping. She could do without the gossip.

"What are you doing for lunch?"  
"Actually I was going to work through it. I have some papers to catch up on," Helena paused, "I was supposed to have done the marking last night. But I was distracted."

"Good I mean to distract you more often," he paused, "Can you spare me five minutes?"

"Five minutes? You want to come across town to see me for five minutes?" she asked astonished.

"Yes. Actually I'm already close by."

"You are?"

"Uh-huh. I'm sitting in the little parquet across the street."

"Okay then. Five minutes," Helena said with a laugh. She rushed over to the teachers lounge. Dropped her books on her assigned desk. Grabbed her coat and rushed out the door and across the street to the nearby parkette. It was surprisingly empty. The children from PS12 where the park was housed had already broken and returned from lunch. The two school boards had decided to stagger the lunch breaks because the Catholic School kids and the public school kids were getting into fights.

She found him sitting on the swing in his business suit and overcoat. He looked so different and out of place. Somehow Helena couldn't even picture seeing him do that as a child. He rose his feet as she got closer and met her half way. They didn't touch at first, they simply gazed into each others eyes. Then Bruce took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

"I've missed you," he said softly nuzzling her nose.

"So did I," Helena replied, "Last night was incredible."

"We'll have another one tonight," he said and kissed her again, "And many more after that."

"I hope so," she said.

He took her hand in his and they walked around the perimeter of the playground.

"You know I read in the paper this morning that you're going to be a father," she teased.

"What?" he asked startled. Then it dawned on him as to what she was talking about, "You mean Carmen Dynamic?"

"Yeah."

"That's impossible. Considering I never touched her. Look Helena you're bound to read and probably have, plenty of stuff about me. But most of it isn't true."

"Most of it?"

"Yes most of it. If I were anywhere as half as active as they make me out to be. Then…there's no way I could do what I do."

"You couldn't have time to."

"Yes!" he exclaimed stopping and turning to look at her, "But it does serve as a terrific alibi. Keeps people from knowing what I am up to."

"And the real you," Helena suggested, "I hope that won't be the case with me."

"I want you in my life. All of it."

"There's so much to know about you. I won't deny that I am really curious."

"Likewise."

"Don't tell me that you don't know everything about me."

"Not everything. Only in relationship what it has to do with the Bertinelli family and the Gotham City mobs."

"I thought you would have wanted to know more."

"I did," he said, "But if I dug more deeply. I knew that I wouldn't be able to resist…." He pulled her closer, "Not anymore. We'll get to know each other very well in time."

"Okay," she said touching his cheek, "Look I should be going."

"I'll see you tonight. I want to take you out to dinner."

**The Russians**

Sergey Safin hit the golf ball and watched it fly through the air hit the green.

He cursed loudly in Russian.

"I hate this game," he growled. Donald Rifkin walked up to him and slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Sergey my friend you just need a bit more patience just watch."

Rifkin reached inside his pocket and took out a golf ball. He placed it on the put and swung the ball. It went flying through the air towards the green and hit the grass at just 50 yards off just where he had planned for it to go. Rifkin smiled contently. Both men were standing on the lush Greenhedges golf course. It was one of the most exclusive golf course in Gotham City. And opened by Jews eighty years ago when they had been denied admission to the Fairview golf club, Gotham cities most exclusive course. The rules had changed and Fairview had dropped its "no Jews" policy. In fact Rifkin had a membership there. Rifkin had paid almost half a million dollar in membership when he had joined ten years ago, And ten thousand dollars a year in dues. Some Jews still refused to golf there as a form of protest. As a sort of "If they don't want us to hell with them." But Rifkin saw that there was no profit in holding a grudge. He knew that some of the best financial deals were made on that course not in the airy towers of the financial district. But Greenhedges had it's advantage as well. It allowed him to meet with people whom he might not want to be seen with in more reputable places. Safin was here as his guest.

Safin had immigrated to the US almost five years ago from Russia and had quickly muscled his way in to being one of the top and most powerful bosses of Gotham Cities Russian mob. A man with two degrees one in Chemistry the other in Economics he was a genius at circumventing the laws in order to peddle his drugs. However he had no talent for golf and was doing very badly. What more, the man had no idea that he was golfing during off peak hours on a rather chilly day. The course was nearly empty. The caddies they used were two of Safin's men. Rifkin did not need the talk of him being associated with the head of the Russian Mob. But he also needed Safin's help. The man had a lot of influence and it was easy to entice him with friendship than coercion. Rifkin was one of the few people in the Jewish community who would deal with him. And Safin was looking for more legitimacy than simply being the boss of the Russian underworld.

"Son of a bitch," Safin said in admiration, "I can't believe it. I don't know how you do it Donald."

"Practice my friend and patience," Rifkin said turning to him, "You seem so tense. Business bad?"

"You have no idea," said Safin extracting a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow, "It's election year. And the President has his dogs out. Three of my warehouses have been raided in the last month. Do you know how much money I lost?"

"No but I can imagine," Rifkin said.

"Now I am not only getting problems from the government. But from Kalokov as well. The arrogant bastard thinks I am growing soft. I don't have the time to beat back him and keep and eye on business. Too much time and too much money."

"Suppose I could solve your problems. Short term?"

"Short term? How?"

"I have a new…acquaintance who has a new product. Actually it was originally developed in Russia. But it was refined and shipped to Israel. I can guarantee you that you will have at least 150 return on your profits."

"One hundred and fifty percent are you sure?"

"Positive."

"And what is the catch?"

"We need permission to operate in your territory."

"Ah I see. For how long?" Rifkin noticed the tone in his voice and looked at him sharply.

"I come to you Sergey as a courtesy. Do you think that if we wanted to take over your territory we would ask you. You can look after the distribution with your people. We just ask that we be able to look after the…supply of the goods."

Safin looked skeptical for a moment. But then nodded holding out his hand.

"Deal," he said smiling.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Scientist**

Mordecai Rabinovich sat in his office located deep inside the bowels of the main building of Apotix Pharmaceuticals. His office was a cluttered mess, with books papers and test tubes strewn around the room. He found it a testament to his cluttered and busy mind. He always maintained that people who spent a lot of time cleaning up and organizing their desks had way too much time on their hands and weren't thinking enough about the important things. And Rabinovich had a lot to think about. Such as how he had come to be in this office right now.

Rabinovich had originally immigrated to Israel from the Soviet Union to escape the rampant anti-Semitism that was accompanying the rise of Russian nationalism. He also wanted a better life for his wife who was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis.

However upon moving to Israel he found that it didn't live up to its' reputation as the 'Land of Milk and Honey'. The economic prospects were poor for someone like him as he spoke no Hebrew and had not spent any time in the army. A factor which determined how high one climbed up the ladder of success in Israel.

Rabinovich spent about a year performing low paying menial jobs trying to get a visa to immigrate to Canada or the US. Until he was called up by a temporary agency which specialized in finding jobs for professionals. Particularly Russian immigrants.

"I have a job that is right for you," the owner told him, "It's at small pharmaceutical company that makes drugs for third world countries. They're overloaded with work right now and could use some help. I told them all about you and they are very interested. If you work hard and do well there is a chance of you being there full time."

While Rabinovich was amongst one of several scientists taken on. He was probably the hardest and most dedicated one hired on. He could often be found working at the laboratory in the wee hours of the morning. It was something that wasn't completely un noticed by the owner Calev Berger, who sometimes made trips down into the lab late in the evening to see what how things were developing. Over time the two men got to know each other. And Berger soon took him into his confidence. He introduced him to his son, Ofir. A handsome young man who was in the army. But Calev wanted to get him admittance into Special Forces. The problem was that Ofir suffered from asthma and it was hindering him. The doctors had not been of much help. So Berger introduced Ofir to Rabinovich. Rabinovich gave Calev a concoction that he himself had made. It was not legally approved. But that did not stop Berger from taking it. The next he heard Ofir had been gained entry to a unit in the Special Forces. And the next thing he knew Rabinovich was promoted to head of special projects at Apotix. Berger informed him of a project that the company had been contracted to do. Make a special serum for the most elite members of the Israeli army who were suffering from burn out in the field.

The serum was tested on an elite commando unit, and for a while it worked well. The soldiers were able to perform longer and did not suffer from fatigue.

However soon side effects began to occur. There were rages and convulsions to the nervous system. It was traced back to the drug. And the head of Army decided to shelve the serum.

But there was a serious problem. Soldiers had become addicted to the drug, and the left over supplies were being passed around and it even began to be sold on the street, fetching as much 500 US dollars for a single vial on the streets of Tel Aviv.

When Calev Berger got wind of this he developed the idea of marketing the drug and secretly selling it on the black market. Using his company to launder the drug profits. He enlisted his son Ofir and members of his closest friends from his army unit to do the distribution. The drug was called Nocturna.

Almost overnight Calev Berger went from wealthy man who took over his grandfathers Cough Syrup Company and made it a moderate success. To a full-fledged multi millionaire and the countries most successful story. The drug became a hot seller thereby squeezing out other very popular black market drugs such as hashish, heroine, cocaine and ecstasy. To assay any probing from the government, Apotix stepped up its' production in the manufacture of generic drugs and started to distribute it to Third world countries, Including nearby Arab countries.

Apotix gained positive publicity by marketing to third world countries, and became a shinning example of Israeli industry and technology and helped to soften their countries reputation as a persecutor of Palestinians.

Things went well for two years. The prestige of Apotix grew and so did Calev Berger's name. He was invited to run for office for the _Kadima_ party in the next general election. He won easily, And even received backing to become the next party leader rivaling Obed Shapiro who for years had been hailed as the next leader of Kadima and the next prime minister of Israel.

Though the drug problem with Nocturna grew. The Israeli police could not seem to stem the flow of it. They did not know where it came from and surmised that it must have been supplied from Hong Kong and or Afghanistan. Not once did the police think to look in their own back yard and at the beacon of Israeli business of Calev Berger one of the countries greatest war heroes, businessmen and politician. No way could this drug be coming from within Israel. It had to be from outside. They thought. Calev encouraged this bit of fiction by making sure that shipments of Nocturna were found on wharfs ostensibly having been unloaded from ships coming from China.

Then the bottom fell out. One night Calev received a visit from one of the top officers in the Mossad, Yossi Lapid. Both men had come up through the army together. He informed Calev that he was being secretly investigated by the police at the behest of Ezra Hod the leader of the _Tkuma_ party. However Hod's investigation had little to do with Apotix breaking the law. His interest stemmed from pure greed. He had been laundering drug money for the Columbians through his Synagogue. And when Chrysalis took off in popularity amongst the young people and urban professionals. It had pushed down the demand for cocaine and ecstasy. Thereby cutting into Hod's profits. Lapid informed him that he should start looking to get out of the country and set up shop elsewhere. Because if Hod won the election he would make sure that the full extent of the law came after Calev. Calev was defiant. Israel was his home and had been since the early part of the 20th century when his grandfather left Poland with the recipe for his cough syrup and set up Apotix ten years later. Nevertheless Calev got together with his financial advisers as well as the head of R&D –this time Rabinovich himself and started to advise them to make arrangements to start transferring their assets and operations out of the country. Until things could be finalized.

Normally Calevs' status as a politician would have been able to shield him. But the public had become weary and tired of Kadima. They had been in power for almost five straight years and were seen as being tired and corrupt. The public was looking for a change. A party that stood for values and ethics. And that party was Tkuma. Two months later Kadima's majority was decimated with Calev loosing his seat. He said goodbye to Israel a month later as he boarded his private plane, Rabinovich and his wife were with him.

Now here was Rabinovich in the US after all but not the way he had expected to be. Gotham City was a bit strange. On one hand it was dynamic and exciting on the other hand, it was scary as hell. His wife was already complaining and wanted to return to Israel. She said it was too cold. He was already looking into buying a home in Miami. But first there was this to look after…..

Suddenly the door flew open, Ofir, and Leev "Lobo" Saman walked into the room. Rabinovich did not like Lobo. He found him creepy and reminded him of the police officers back in Russia who would torment the population under the old Communist rulers. He was forever coming by the lab and badgering Rabinovich to give him a stronger dose of Chrystal. The man was a body builder and was hooked on the drug as well as a cocktail of steroids. He found it hard to believe that this man was a Jew he looked just like an Arab. However he knew his place and did not badger or bother Rabinovich too much.

"Where's Calev?" Rabinovich asked.

"He had some business to take care of," said Ofir, "He told us to fill him in later. What do you have for us?"

"Okay," Rabinovich said, "I looked into our stock. The stores that came in on the container ship. And it looks as if we have enough for a months supply."

"Only a month?" Lobo asked, "I thought that we had enough for five."

"This isn't Israel," Rabinovich snapped at him, "Gotham City is much bigger and supplies won't last."

"Okay then," Ofir nodded, "We have access to labs already in place to make it. We can step up production."

"It is not that easy," Rabinovich said, "There are certain things we need."

"Such as?" Lobo asked.

"Duhydroimidazodax and Ethoxyroxodine," Rabinovich replied.

"So why don't you make some?" Lobo asked annoyed.

"Because it would take too much time. Pushing back our schedule."

"Where can we get some?" Ofir asked.

"There are two industries who specialize in both. The first one is Freytag Industries. But they are located in Germany."

"And the second?" Lobo asked.

"The second one is right here in Gotham City," Rabinovich paused and smiled, "Wayne Chemicals."

"Solution found," said Ofir, "We have a meeting with the CEO very soon to discuss our merger."

**Dinner**

Bruce deliberated long and hard as to where he could take Helena for dinner. There were several five star restaurants in town. But those places were either crawling with paparazzi or the staff was on the pay role of the paparazzi. And by time they were ready to leave there would be someone there to take pictures. Normally Bruce didn't mind. It helped to keep up his profile as a playboy…and it gave him a measure of control, as to what the press could see into life. However he didn't want that to be the case with Helena. He had waited too long for this to happen and he did not want to subject her to un-needed public attention.

He finally decided to take her to a French restaurant located in the Charleston district of Gotham City, called 'Chez Micheline'. It was known for being one of the most romantic restaurants in Gotham City with its' blend of French and Asian cuisine. He had chosen it because the restaurant was done up to resemble a French countryside bistro, however with touches of Gotham's own uniqueness.

Bruce called ahead and made the reservations himself. He was on a first name basis with the owners Jean and Justine Vaugier. He could count on them for their discretion. It was Jean who greeted them both when they walked through the door at 7pm. He led them to a table on the far side of the room. The restaurant was half empty and no one seemed to notice or care that the 'Prince of Gotham City' was dinning there.

"You look beautiful," he said gently pulling out a chair for her to sit down.

"Thanks," Helena replied. As soon as classes had finished she had raced home. It took her almost 20 minutes to decide what she wanted to wear. She finally settled on a white silk blouse and black skirt. Helena knew it was too formal, But she didn't want to look desperate or over anxious.

"This place is great. I haven't been here before."

"It was recommended to me by a friend," Bruce said. He didn't bother to mention that it was the owner of an art gallery whom he had been sleeping with. Helena didn't need to know that and she didn't press.

"I've never been here before. It's been awhile since I've been to a French restaurant."

"Oh really?" Bruce asked, "When was the last time?"

"To tell you the truth. The last time I was in Paris."

"You've been to Paris?"

"Oh yes. Several times. When I was in University, I used to take trips up there on holidays. Just me and a bunch of girlfriends."

"Sounds like fun."

"It was. We would stay at a hostel. Camp out on a floor and go to clubs at night and art galleries in the day time. Or rather I went to the galleries. My girlfriends spent most of their time hanging around cafes talking to the French men."

"You like art?"

"Yes…yes I do. Can't draw or paint to save my life. But I really enjoy looking at it. It just makes me feel peaceful."

"Any favourites?"

"No one in particular. I do like the French impressionists. Though I have to say that I'm a bit more partial to Monet."

Bruce smiled.

"Really?" he asked, "What about him appeals to you?"

"I dunno… I guess it's straightforward, colorful depiction of pleasing natural subjects. There's a little symbolism to tease…"

"Ah just like you straightforward and to the point."

"Touché."

They were silent for a moment as they looked through the menu. Helena ordered _Filet Mignon de Porc de Chutney a la Mangue_. While she did enjoy French food, she wasn't too keen on it. She had a high sensitivity to carbohydrates and even though between regular workouts and time as Huntress kept her looking fit and trim. She still had to watch her weight or it would get out of control. Especially since any get together with other Italians required a serious chow down on delicious pastas and other starches. Bruce went with the _Poitrine de Poulet a la Asiastique_.

When the waiter arrived Bruce gave him the order and added a bottle of Veuve Cliquot Brut.

"Champagne? Do you want to go out later?" she asked.

"It's all taken care of," he said placing his hands over hers, "Tonight is all ours."

"So where did you go to school Helena?" Bruce asked changing the subject."

"I went to the University of Palermo in Sicily. And enrolled in their Educational Studies School."

"Oh and why is that?"

"I guess I've always wanted to be a teacher. I love learning and I guess I wanted to give back to the students."

"Is it working?"

"No. Unfortunately Shakespeare has nothing on the latest video game or the Internet."

"So I've heard."

"I took some courses on Italian history," Helena paused and smiled, "With a heavy leaning towards organized crime and their relationship to the Italian government. I thought that it might become useful. When I returned to Gotham I enrolled at GSU and did my graduate degree in comparative Literature. I got my teaching certificate and started subbing for the GCPS a year later until…" she stopped.

Bruce nodded. He knew she was referring to the three months she had been on the lam from the law after being wrongfully charged with murder. Her prolonged absence must have forced the GCPSS to fire her.

"I'm with the Catholic board now," she said.

"And how's that working out?" Bruce asked.

"Pretty much the same. But more strict," Helena said, "I'm trying to get in on a full time basis. But no luck yet. How about you? Where did you go to school?"

"I attended Cambridge and Sorbonne."

"The Sorbonne!" Helena exclaimed. The Sorbonne, also known as the University of Paris, was one of Europe's oldest and most prestigious universities, "I visited there a few times when I was in Paris. I even sat in on a class."

"What did you take?" Bruce asked surprised only a woman like Helena Bertinelli would think of spending her vacation touring and sneaking into lecture halls at a foreign university. He knew he would never be bored with this one.

"Something to do with anthropology. My French is or was a bit rusty. But I got the gist of it. Did you go to school somewhere else?"

"I also went to school in Germany for awhile."

"Why Germany?"

"The school I went to, the University of Regensburg has the best chemistry program in the world. I thought it would come in handy."

Dinner arrived and they spent the next hour talking and relaxing, about nothing important, mostly their younger days. Helena had to admit that she was genuinely surprised. Bruce Wayne was not what she expected. He was very pleasant and charming. He solicited her views and patiently listened to her. She was beginning to see why he was so popular with women. And it wasn't simply due to the good looks, the build or the money (though they didn't hurt). Bruce Wayne seemed to have a knack for treating the women whom he was with like the most important person on earth. She had felt it the night before.

"About last night," he said, "You aren't disappointed that things took off rather fast?"

"No," she said, "You're right. We both wanted it to happen for a very long time. We got it out of the way. And now we can get to know each other…at a slower pace."

"I meant what I said this afternoon," he said reaching out and taking her hand in his own, they felt rough and used. So different from the hands of the women of privilege he used to date. He had loved the feel of those hands on his body the night before, "I want you in my life. All of it."

"I want that too Bruce."

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

To Helena's surprise they did not head towards the north end of the city to Glendale where she knew his mansion was and he did not go towards her loft.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"My other home. I keep a penthouse in mid town."

"But your cave.." she said.

"I'll show that to you," he said, "But not tonight. Relax, everything will happen in due time."

Bruce Wayne's penthouse was located in downtown Gotham amongst the skyscrapers and financial towers. He had a private elevator, which led, directly up to his penthouse. The doors opened into a large penthouse suit.

"Oh My God! This place is beautiful!" she breathed looking around the spacious penthouse, "I think I saw it featured in Architectural Monthly."

"Yes," Bruce said smiling, "They did a profile of it about a year ago. You read it?"

"Yes, I subscribe," Helena said stepping away from him and into the sunken living room, "It's much bigger though. The art work is different."

"I had some of it taken down and removed for the shoot," he said, "No sense in tempting thieves."

"Ah your lair where women are seduced?" she teased.

"No just a home away from home," Bruce said laughing. She was partly right. When Dick Grayson had come to live at Wayne Manor ten years ago. Alfred told him that he wasn't setting a proper example for the young man by bringing home his 'overnight' guests. Some of whom were married women. So Bruce had ended up buying the penthouse. When Dick moved on to college, Bruce felt himself experiencing 'empty nesters' syndrome and he made the Penthouse his permanent residence for a few years because it was smaller and more intimate.

"Let me show you around," Bruce said. He first took her to the kitchen. It was neat and spotless. And designed like a galley kitchen with state of the art steel appliances and black marble floor.

"You cook? She asked.

"No. Well a little," he said, "I can make a mean omelet and whey pancakes—I'll treat you to some in the morning."

"I can't wait," Helena laughed.

Off to the side, in a small room, there was a temperature controlled wine cellar.

He showed her the state of the art gym in another room. Complete with huge punching bag. It was so different from the gym she used, where the weights were rusted.

"And this," he said taking her by the hand and leading her off towards a nearby room, "Is the real reason I brought you here tonight."

"You're taking me towards the bedroom?"

"Not yet. Come."

They reached the room and Bruce flipped on the lights. Helena could see that they were inside an office of some sort.

"You wanted to show me your office?" Helena asked puzzled.

"Not entirely," he said stepping further inside the room and facing her, "Look."

Helena joined him at his side and turning to the wall facing the doorway, she saw what he was referring to. It was a painting. She gasped softly.

"That's a Monet right?" she asked turning to him.

"Yes it is," he said, there was a measure of pride in his voice, "It's called _Soleil Levant_."

"Sun rising," Helena translated.

"Yes, but this one actually looks like a rising sun. Unlike the painting done by your friend."

"Oh you mean Santilli?" she asked laughing.

"Yes him. How did that go?"

"Beats me. After that night. I haven't seen or heard from him since. But this..Oh my God Bruce! It's beautiful! How long have you had it?"

"A couple of years."

"You're a Monet fan?"

"Amongst other things. I like him because he's straightforward and to the point."

Helena blushed.

"Two blunt people, trying to make a relationship work."

"It will. There won't be any games," he said huskily taking her in his arms and bending his head to kiss her.

"None whatsoever," she said reaching for him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Introductions**

Ofir Bergers choice of car was a silver Ford Gambit. He had seen it in some Hollywood movie where the young hero in the same vein as a rebel-without a cause had driven it. He loved it because it had flash and style without being pretentious. I was the total antithesis of some of the other cars his friends drove—such as Aaron who had brought a top of the line Mercedes. Or the Humvee driven by Lobo. The Gambit was more subtle –but at the same time it definitely stood out from the other sport cars on the road. It was unique the same way that Ofir hoped wanted to be. He parked the car in one of the reserved parking spaces and almost at once he heard a car horn blowing behind him.. Ofir climbed out of the car turned around. It was a Mercedez sedan driven by Charles Nolan one of his fathers execs. Ofir flashed him a smile and headed towards the building.

In the outer chamber of his fathers office the secretary was being was busy chatting on the phone. She waved to him but did not get off the phone. Ofir nodded and pushed open the door to his fathers office without knocking. Calev Bergers' office was very large and spacious. At one end of the room was his fathers desk. At the other end was a bank of plush leather chairs sorounding a conference table.

On a nearby buffet table sat refreshments where the men were milling about talking and either drinking or eating. Ofir recognised a few of them by face as being lawyers. Calev was in the process of speaking with Donald Rifkin, who was still sporting his customary two day old beard. Ofir wasn't certain what it was but he did not like the man. He just gave him ill feelings. Calev looked up when his son entered and scowled slightly at seeing his appearance.

Ofir had been told that this was a business meeting but he refused to dress up. He hated "suits" and refused to put one on. They reminded him of the bureaucrats who ran Israel and who surely running the country into the ground. Ofir felt that to dress like that. He was instead wearing black khaki pants a green golf shirt covered by a plaid green khaki jacket.

"Ah Ofir!" Rifkin, "We've been waiting for you."

"Sorry I am late," Ofir said approaching the group, " But traffic was murder."

"Well at least you made it," Calev said sharply.

"Actually you're right on time," Rifkin said.

"What?" Ofir asked puzzled looking at his watch it was just past 9 am and the meeting was supposed to be for 9, "I thought that the meeting was supposed to be for 9?"

"It is," said Rifkin, " But we are waiting for just one more person."

"Who?" Ofir asked.

"The guest of honor. Bruce Wayne," Calev said.

"Why don't I introduce you to everyone else?" Rifkin asked.

Ofir shook hands with all them men in the room. Half of them Berger recognized as being council for Berger pharmaceuticals, and others were members of two banks who were on site to discuss the merger.

Ofir poured himself a glass of orange juice and tried to act interested as the conversation in the room vacillated from golf to the up coming baseball season back to golf. In between he kept taking discreet looks at his watch. The time was creeping towards 10 o'clock and there was still no sign of Bruce Wayne. Where the hell was the guy? Did he think that other people did not have anything else to do with their time? Offir was just about to go over and tell his father he was going to leave when suddenly the two double doors swung open. Revealing a tall, immaculately dressed man…he was followed by two women. An older woman in her mid 40's and a much younger woman in her late 20's.

"Bruce!" Rifkin exclaimed rushing forwards like a fawning courtier, "So happy you made it!"

So this was the famous Bruce Wayne he had heard so much about. He was a big man about the same height and weight as Ofir who himself was 6 feet and weighed 200lbs but older somewhere in his mid 30's. He was ruggedly handsome. His hair was jet black and cut short. His eyes were a dark intense blue. He was wearing a black pin stripped tailored suit and a white silk shirt and red tie. He grinned in a way that said that all right was right with the world. As if he were master of the universe.

Ofir hated him on sight.

"Good morning everyone," Bruce said comfortably, "Any coffee left?"

"Right here," said one of the bankers pouring him a cup.

What? Ofir thought. The guy leaves us hanging for almost a full fledged hour and no apology.

"Hell I could sure use a cup," Bruce said gratefully taking it from him, "I had one hell of a night."

The room fell into a hushed awkward silence and Ofir was certain he heard someone titer in the background. He vaguely remembered reading somewhere that Wayne was a womanizer. Was that remark supposed to be some veiled comment on his sexual exploits from the night before? Evidently so because one of the women behind him coloured. The other one a younger woman. Just smiled as if she was used to the bosses joshing.

Rifkin stepped forwards and introduced Wayne to all of the people in the room. Bruce smiled and nodded while sipping his coffee. He nodded here and there and made a brief comment. He got to Offir.

"Bruce this is my eldest son," Calev said, "He's ex-special forces in the Israeli army. He's handling the security for the company."

"Nice to meet you Ofir," Bruce said still sipping his coffee."

"Pleasure to meet you as well Mr. Wayne."

"It's Bruce," he replied.

"Why don't we get right down to business?" Calev suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Bruce said putting down the coffee cup, "I have a t-off in about an hour."

Offir looked at him in disbelief and felt his temper flare. But it appeared as if he was the only one who was irritated.

Obviously the arrangements had been made ahead of time. And the technical aspects were hit on. Ofir noticed how for the details that took place Wayne allowed his exec Natalie Sheldon and Michelle Alverez do all the heavy lifting and discuss all the minutia of the deal. But he did interject once in awhile with some sort of useful point. The way Wayne said it, was made to sound nonchalant as if it was something that he had just thought of, but Ofir suspected that even if Wayne hid, behind the skirts of the two women. He was certain that he was really the puppet master here. He wondered which one of the women he was banging.

"So do we have a deal?" Calev asked.

"I think we do," Bruce grinned.

"Bruce this is a great day for both our companies," Calev said.

"It is," Bruce said, "And I don't think we should keep this all a secret."

"The press releases are ready to go out Mr. Wayne," Alvarez said, "As soon as I get back to the office."

"No, no, no Michelle," Bruce said turning to the young woman, "I was thinking of something more grand. Like a party."

"A party?" Rifkin asked.

"Of course," Bruce said, "A party to celebrate and to get the word out. I'll make sure that all the major news organizations are in attendance. You won't having any problem arranging that do you Michelle."

If she did, she hid it very well.

"Of course not Mr. Wayne."

"Good," Bruce said, he took a discreet look at his Rolex watch and rose to his feet, "Now if you'll all excuse me. I have a golf game."

He moved towards the door and turned back towards the group and smiled.

"It really is a beautiful day."

Twenty minutes later Bergers office was cleared of all guests and only Beger, Offir and Rifkin remained.

"Nice enough man," Calev said.

"He's a _maniak_," Offir murmured, Calev looked at him sharply.

"What is your problem Offir?"

"Did you see how he waltzed in here late?" Offir asked spreading his arms in frustration, "And didn't even apologize!"

"So you were in the army for God's sake!" Calev barked, "When since have you been hung up on formalities."

"I just think that.." Offir said

"You don't think Offir," Calev snarled, "About anything but I tell you to think about. Understand."

"Offir," Rifkin interjected softly, "It is too our advantage to have Bruce Wayne self-absorbed and unfocused. That way he stays out of our affairs.


	17. Chapter 17

**The Talk**

The Columbus Center was located in the heart of Gotham Cities 'Little Italy'. It was a large recreational complex consisting of an Olympic size swimming pool, thousand seat auditorium, a fully equipped gymnasium, weight room, two tennis courts, one squash court. Two large banquet halls, an art gallery, several small classrooms and a full service cafeteria. The place was opened to the public at large. But mainly catered to those who lived in the immediate neighborhood. The building that been built with money from several parties. Including the state, municipal and federal governments. Not to mention donations from several large corporations and local businessmen. Helena knew who the local 'businessmen' were. They were mobsters who wanted to leave a legacy for themselves. It was why one of the banquet halls was named 'Galente' after the local crime boss.

The class that Helena taught consisted mostly of older Italian women. Who now being empty nesters wanted to brush up on their English and interviewing skills so that they could land better paying job

If time permitted Helena liked to arrive at the center early. She knew that the class was a source of pleasure for many of the women there. Outside of church, it was the only place to meet and get together with other women who were in similar situations. Helena liked being there because it gave her a chance to catch up on gossip in the neighborhood. Such as who was sleeping with who. Whose daughter was pregnant. Who was getting married and so on. But more importantly it managed to provide her with a great deal of insight into the goings on in the mob. Helena gathered more information at these get togethers' than she would have picked up in months of surveillance, or a night of breaking heads as Huntress. These women had virtually no qualms in spilling dirt in front of the daughter of Franco Bertinelli—and the niece of Tomaso Panessa. It made her feel like one of them. Ironically Helena felt more at home and welcome around these older women than she did around women who were her own age in the neighborhood. She just found too many of them superficial and shallow, and socializing with them was more like extra work than anything else.

The two closest friends she had ever had around her age, she had met at University in Sicily. Violetta Virzi and Luanna Perrotta, had befriended her when she returned home to Sicily and welcomed her into their circle. They were fun and loving and accepting. And so different from the snobby rich girls she had attended Catholic school with in Switzerland. Both of them were married and with children. Violetta lived in Rome and worked for an Insurance company. And Luanna lived in Palermo and worked for a bank. She e-mailed them both whenever she got the chance.

Helena had just crossed the large reception area when she spotted Nino Adessa having an animated conversation with one of the centers handymen. She did not get the entire scope of the conversation, but she gathered that Nino was trying hurry the man up to finish some work. Typical of Nino always throwing his weight around. She had not easily forgotten his behaviour towards her at the unveiling of the Santilli painting. She had almost reached the end of the hall when she heard Nino calling her name. Helena was tempted to pretend that she had not heard him. But that would be futile since Nino's voice carried like a loud speaker. Sighing inwardly she turned to face him.

"What's up Nino?" she asked.

"I was wondering if you had heard anymore from Bruce Wayne."

Not since he kissed me goodbye this morning she thought.

"No why should I have heard from him?" she asked.

"Because of the way he was all over you the other night. I thought that he would have called you or something."

"The man's a womanizer," Helena said, "It's what he does he flirts with women."

"Well it looked like more than that."

"He just wanted to know more about Santilli. Since it was I who was chaperoning him around."

"That's it?"

"Of course that's it. What are you getting at Nino?" she asked her annoyance finally coming forward, "Do you want me to start seeing him to get money?"

"Oh come on don't be stupid!" Nino said crossly, "That's not what I meant!"

"No?"

"Of course not. Don't be dumb. But this is your community too. You could be helping out more."

"Don't give me that. I give to this community. I teach here remember twice a week. And I get nothing..not even thanks for chaperoning that prima donna Santilli around. That should be enough. If you want money from Wayne why don't you just keep on doing the ass kissing you started with the other night. That should work."

And with that she continued down the hall. But not before hearing Nino

mutter the word 'Vacca' which translated to bitch in Italian. Good, Helena thought, it would be nice to be in Nino's bad books. Maybe he wouldn't be bothering her anymore.

She walked into the class room and found Lucilla Battaglia, one of her students, there laying out food on a side table. In order to make their get together more convivial someone had the idea of someone bringing a treat for each of their get togethers'. It was supposed to be nothing big just snacks like Cookies. But of course in an effort to out do each other--Each week someone would make a more elaborate dish. Two weeks ago someone had brought an entire tray of Lasagna. And Helena had tried to put a stop to it. She made a rule that it was only to consist of a single helping of finger food. That was it. However it appeared as if she would have to lay out the rule again. Because what Mrs. Battaglia was spreading out went well beyond just finger food. It was a full feast consisting of:

Coarse country pate and rich pork rillettes with Dijon mustard and red horse radish; smoked red trout and sturgeon fennel slaw and anchovy aioli; egg shooters manchego cheese and mixed olives and garlic dill pickles , creamy fresh-churned butter and ciabbatti two large Italian loaves of bread. And a large pitcher of lemonade. Mrs. Battaglia was busy pouring espresso into a cup.

Helena could feel her mouth salivate at the site of it. Well she'd have to serve penance by running an extra mile in the morning. Make that two miles.

"Mrs. Battaglia," she called out walking over to the woman, "What's going on?"

Mrs. Battaglia turned around her face flush with excitement.

"Oh Helena!" she exclaimed, "I am so happy that you came early! I have some wonderful news!"

"And what is that?" Helena asked plunking down her satchel on an empty chair. It was made out of leather and her Aunt had given it to her before she was shuttled off to boarding school in Switzerland. It was the only positive thing that she had gained from that entire experience.

"You remember, my Mary is getting married in August," she said reaching for her handbag

"Yes of course," Helena said, Mrs. Battaglia never failed to mention it at every class.

"Well. There has been a slight change of plans," she replied riffling through her large oversized purse. She brought out a small envelope and handed it to her.

"What's this?" she asked taking it from Mrs. Battaglia.

"The location of the receptions has been changed to the Boulevard Club. You know down by the marina?"

"The Boulevard Club?" Helena asked startled. The Boulevard Club was the biggest and most prestigious banquet hall in Gotham City, it was adjacent to the Yacht club. It was rumoured to be very hard to book because of the long waiting list. It was also hugely expensive. How the Battaglia's or the Aurelio's (the grooms family) could afford to have a reception there, was beyond Helena.

"Yes. There was a last minute cancellation," Mrs. Battaglia said pouring her a small cup of espresso, "A date opened up. We got it. I am so happy! You are still coming?"

"Yes," Helena said opening the envelope. If she didn't it would be seen as a snub, and Mrs. Battaglia was the unofficial leader of the group. She could easily kill the 'friendship' that Helena had developed with these women.

"I so am glad. It will be so wonderful!" Mrs. Battaglia face lit up and she began to clap her hands with joy.

"Well this does like great news," Helena replied reading the card.

"Here why don't you have some espresso," Mrs. Battaglia said passing her a small styrophoam cup. Helena took it from her. Espresso was her favourite beverage next to red wine.

"But Mary and Enrico must be very overjoyed," Helena said taking a sip of the espresso. She made sure she was smiling when she added, "That must be costing you a pretty penny."

"Oh it's no bother at all. Enrico got a raise on his job at the bank."

"He did?"

"Yes he's doing very well now."

Helena found that to be unlikely. She knew that Enrico was basically a clerk who reviewed documents at Chase-Metropolis Bank. She doubted that whatever raise he got would have enabled him to pay for a wedding at the Boulevard Club. She knew that his friends were mobbed up, she wondered if Enrico had finally stepped over to the dark side. She would have to check it out.

"So Helena! When are you going to get married?"

"I don't know Mrs. Battaglia!" she laughed.

"What a beautiful young woman like you. Any man would be happy to have you!"

Helena smiled indulgently, more than one of these women had tried to set her up with their sons or nephews. But she always begged off saying that she was married to her job and God. But before she could reply there was a high-pitched chime coming from her purse. She opened it and took out her new cell phone. Batman had given her in order facilitate communications. She kept it with her at all times. There was a text message. It read 'the Baxter building tonight 10pm.' Helena smiled.

"Ah a man!" Mrs. Battaglia said her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Yes. A very special one," she said smiling.

**Patrol**

It was 10:15pm and Huntress paced restlessly back and forth on the top of the Baxter building. Batman had not shown up yet and she was starting to worry. She resisted touching the communication device he had given her. He had designed it so that it would fit behind her right ear and could not be easily dislodged in a fight. The speaking portion was sown into the back of her glove.

So far they had only been out on patrol together once. But that had been uneventful. The city had been quiet and after about an hour they had simply ended up going back to Bruce's penthouse and straight to bed. Still…Huntress had to admit that it had been quite a thrill. Uneventufl as it had been, it was still part of what she had wanted since she was 16 years old to fight along the side of the mighty Batman. She waited five more minutes then tapped it.

"Where are you?" she demanded.

"Right here."

She whirled around and found him standing there a few yards away cape billowing gently behind him.

He made his way towards her.

"I was at a retirement dinner for an employee. It ran over and I couldn't take off."

"Okay," she replied nodding.

"I was thinking that we could split up tonight," he said touch, "Cover as much territory in as short of time."

"And get back home sooner," she said smiling.

"That's not exactly not my intention," he said, "But yes."

"Okay then. I'll cover the theatre district. It always brings out the lowlifes looking for an easy mark."

"Very well. I'll cover the south side. I haven't made my presence felt there in a very long time."

"Okay then. I'll see you later."

She moved away from him. But he called out to her.

"Helena."

"Yes?" she said turning to him.

"We need some ground rules…" he said, "If this part of our relationship is going to work."

"What sort of rules?"

"No.." he paused clearing his throat, "I don't want us to be rushing through patrols in order to…"

"Gotcha," she said laughing, "I'll see you later."

Huntress covered the Midtown West area but with the exception of a few disturbances which were par for the course in Gotham (and hence did not require her interference) it was rather quiet. She reached Wellington street at about 11:30 pm. Wellington street un-officially known as the theatre district was known for a half a dozen theatres and the restaurants that flowed from it. Most of the theatre shows had already been let out and this being the middle of the week she knew there was not likely to be much of crowd. The restaurants and the outside cafes were bound to have clientele. Especially since the spring weather had been a bit warmer than usual might not encourage people to rush home.

Huntress scanned the street carefully for several minutes until she eventually spotted two young women leaving a bar. The way in which they were both swaying and the raucous laughter she could hear even at five stories up denoted that they were drunk. Huntress tried to remember the last time she had gotten soused. She couldn't remember it was probably back at University to celebrate the end of exams.

Two drunken women leaving the restaurant district at this time of night were begging for trouble.. and sure enough trouble came. The women had just reached the corner of an intersection when two figures appeared as if out of nowhere. Both of them were wearing heavy hooded jackets. Their movements towards the women were fast and frantic. Like they were hopped up on something. Huntress has seen enough junkies in her life to know that if she did not interfere and quickly calamity would soon ensue. She fired her grappling gun into the building opposite and dived down onto the sidewalk in front of them.

The bigger of the two thugs had a gun in his hand which he was waving all over the place. He was screaming at the women to hand over their purse. Which one of them did but the other one, obviously too frightened kept clutching hers.

"Hand over the purse you stupid cow!" one of them screamed grabbing at her purse.

Huntress landed a few feet from the party and reached down to her utility belt to un-sheath her 'staff'.

It was a metal tube measuring about six inches in length and two inches in diameter. However when she pressed the button in the middle it extended to more than six feet in length it was made out of a combination of aluminum and titanium and was light as a feather in her hands. However it handed out a hell of a wallop. She had started to use it when she wanted to go for less 'lethal' weaponry. She only reached for the crossbow at critical times.

She faced them both staff at the ready.

"Give the lady back her purse and back off," she warned them.

The two thugs looked at her for a moment in complete fright, but that was gone in an instance followed by something which looked like complete menace.

"It's that bitch who put Cabron away!" one of them said.

"Huntress," the other sneered, "Hell I thought that you was scary! You look like a table dancer."

Huntress smiled cruelly, yes that's what she needed a little encouragement via an insult. Funnily enough it had always been put downs and low or negative opinions that had spurred her on and encouraged to be better.

"Yeah and I'm about to dance and use your ass as the table!" Huntress said advancing towards them.

One of them lunged for her but Huntress easily danced out of his way. She took the staff and hit him hard with it right in the middle of his chest and he staggered backwards. The other one took a swing at her, but she expertly blocked it with her staff and hit him square on the chin with her fist. His head snapped back and he went crashing down on to his back. She moved and stood over him the tip of the staff up against his chest.

"Stay down," she said, and pressed the staff into his neck for extra measure.

"Watch out!" one of the women screamed.

Huntress turned in time to see the other one charging at her his eyes red with rage, which even managed to unsettle Huntress.

"You frigid bitch," he said swinging at her, Huntress tried to twist away, but he clipped her in the side of the shoulder with such strength that it sent her staggering side ways.

"I oughta give you a taste of your own medicine…"

He reached out to kick her aiming for her gut. But Huntress had regained her composure. She moved away from him then hopping back dropped kicked him to the ground.

Breathing hard, Huntress stepped back, spotting the purse lying on the ground. She picked it up and handed it to the trembling woman.

"Oh thank you," the woman said gratefully taking the purse from her.

"You ladies shouldn't be out on the street at this time of night. Especially inebriated," Huntress told them.

"We know," the other one said, "But Chrissy just got promoted…and we wanted to celebrate while it was so fresh…in our minds."

"Well congratulations. But next time save your partying for the weekend. Or at least a place with more people," Huntress said she reduced her staff and hooked it back onto her utility belt. She was about to reach for her grappling gun when one of them stopped her.

"How did you do all that stuff?"

"Aerobics class," she said with a smile. And releasing her grappling gun went sailing up onto a nearby building.

To her surprise she found Batman standing there waiting for her, his arms crossed across his massive chest.

"Hey," she said, "I didn't expect to run into you so soon. Things quiet on your end?"

"I came to see if you needed any help," he said grimly.

"I didn't," she replied.

"Obviously not," he said with a sharpness that made her start.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Was that necessary?"

"What?"

"Drop kicking that guy."

"You don't know what it was like Bruce," she said hotly, "It was like an elephant charging at me, and the look in his eyes. It was pure rage."

"A junkie Helena. You should have been able to take him down without the theatrics."

"Hey!" she said defiantly, "It wasn't like that at all."

"Wasn't it. He was almost down."

"And if you were paying attention you would have seen that he rose to his feet," she retorted, "I did what I thought was best Bruce," she said hotly, "I know what I am doing. I don't need you to second guess me."

"I am not second guessing you."

"Oh no?" she asked hotly, "Because that's what this sounds like. You know very well that the real reason you and I never could partner up was because you tried to control me."

"I'm not trying to control you. But we have basic rules out here. We stop criminals. But nothing excessive."

Huntress had heard enough. She hated being reprimanded like a naughty school girl, especially after she had just prevented two innocent women from being robbed or worse, and all he was interested was her being too rough on criminals.

"It's deja vu with you all over again? This is the same crap that I've had to put up with you for years! I really am not in the mood for this," she said hotly, "I'm going home."

"Hold on! I'm not finished with you," he said reaching for her arm. But she pushed him away.

"Yes you are," she said menacingly pointing a finger at him, "It's obvious that you still don't trust me. It's part of why we could never work together. She released her grappling gun and went sailing off into the next building. She did not stop until she was six blocks away, despite her regular work out her heart was pounding like a hammer.

Damn him! She thought furiously. Damn him! She felt a mixture of emotions wondering if she had handled that rightly. Why had she run away? Why hadn't she stood her ground? Was it because she felt weak and vulnerable around him? Was she afraid that she would cow to his demands?

"Huntress."

She turned and found him standing there.

"I don't want to get into this with you tonight," she said hotly.

"If we're going to be working together, then we're going to have to come to an understanding."

"Oh you mean apart from rushing through patrol to go to bed?"

"Don't evade the subject."

"I'm not," she said hotly, "If we're going to be partners Bruce. That means we're going to be partners. It means I have an equal say. I'm not one of your minions who blindly obeys you. I was there. You weren't there. I did what I did for a reason. I think that my actions throughout the years should show that I just don't do this for a thrill."

"I know you don't," he said patiently walking up to her and reaching for her, "But I think that sometimes you just don't understand how capable you are. And how dangerous. He might have been hopped up. But you were in complete control of the situation."

"You still don't trust me."

"I do. I just want you to be careful," he said taking her by the arm and pulling her close.

"Don't touch me," she said but some of the venom had gone out of her voice, "Don't think you can use our relationship to try and control or manipulate me."

"I'm not," he got a firmer grip on her arm and pulled her in for a long deep kiss.

"I thought that we agreed to no fooling around on the street."

"We did," he said huskily, "Buy you just look so irresistible when you're angry. Do you know how many times I've wanted to kiss you after you've blown up at me."

To his surprise she blushed slightly.

"I've wanted to do the same thing too," she admitted.

"Then let's go home and finish this discussion properly," he replied. Placing his arm around her waist he released his grappling hook and they went sailing off into the night.


	18. Chapter 18

**Discovery **

"How's it going dude?" Nightwing asked walking over to Robin's side.

Robin, known as the squire to Batman's dark knight. Looked over his shoulder at the older man.

"Slow. Real slow," he replied, "They haven't done anything all evening but down shots and argue."

"These things take time."

"Yeah but I don't have all night. I still have a trig test that I have to study for."

"How's life in high school?"

"Sucks. But it's a necessary evil."

"Uh huh," Nightwing replied extracting his binoculars from the compartment in his glove, "I hear you got pre-acceptance to Dartmouth."

"Yeah. But I probably won't go."

"Why not?"

"I'm holding out for Harvard. Drake men have been going there for five generations."

"You sure you want to be so far from Gotham City? I mean I know how much you love being Robin."

Robin laughed dryly.

"No way man. The hero biz is for you. I have no plans on doing this for the rest of my life. Bruce can find someone else."

"It'll be hard."

"Hardly. He hardly uses me as it is. I'm just useful for when he's out of town. The GCPD are no way as corrupt as they were back when he started. Both he and Barbara's Dad have done a great job in cleaning up the streets."

"Yeah I guess we have," said Nightwing, fixing his eyes on the office building.

"Speaking of filling in for him. Do you know who he's seeing?"

"What do you mean?" Nightwing asked.

"I mean seeing someone. He's been hurrying through patrols lately and taking off right after them. He tells me to 'get myself home'.

"You sure. That doesn't sound like Bruce. He's obsessed," said Nightwing.

"Naw man I'm positive he's seeing someone."

"Like who?"

"I don't know. I just know she's special."

"A model or actress?"

"No, no. They're not special."

"You mean Catwoman…Selina Kyle?"

"She's past tense."

"Talia…"

"No. I checked. She hasn't left Metropolis in over a week. I'm positive it's someone right here in Gotham City."

"Well she could be married," Nightwing said shrugging, "It's known to have happened before."

"Really?" Robin asked surprised.

"Oh yeah,"

"I thought that with a guy like Bruce who fights the bad guys."

Nightwing smiled wryly.

"Yeah I used to think like that too. Until I got older. And I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"Figured out that Bruce's motives are a bit less than pure. They're part vengeance. Partly for justice. Sometimes between the lines between them both are indistinguishable."

"Wow."

"You see the thing with Bruce is. At a very young age someone messed with his life. Robbed him of his childhood and part of him becoming Batman is to make sure that no one ever messes with his life like that ever again. It's why he's the "Dark Knight."

"And how about you Dick?" Robin prodded, "Have you ever thought about your motives?"

"Naw man. I'm as plain as day. The white Knight. I just like helping people all around."

"What you see is what you get."

"Pretty much."

"Hmm…so about this woman….You really think that it could be a married woman?"

"Who knows?" Dick said, "Bruce generally keeps his romantic affairs private. Unless they are for show. Then he has no problem being seen with this model or that actress. But if she means something to him and he would rather keep her out of the lime light then he tends to be more discreet. I remember one morning I was about to leave for school when I ran into Bruce escorting this gorgeous woman down the steps from upstairs."

"Who was she?"

"Catherine Jones the wife of Michael Douglass."

"You mean the action star?"

"Yep the very one. I didn't recognize her at first. Until I read in the tabloids that she was about to divorce her husband few weeks later. Irreconcilable differences it was called. I always wondered if her carrying on with Bruce had anything to do with that."

"Ya think?" Robin asked dryly.

Nightwing chuckled.

"Look man, I'm off to see Babs. You think you can handle this all on your own?"

"Yeah I think so," said Robin lifting his field glasses to look at the men again, "I really don't anything else will be happening tonight."

"Okay. But holler if you need me."

"Get outta here and see your girlfriend. I don't want to get on Oracle's bad side."

He left Robin's side and released his grappling hook and went sailing across the sky to the next building. Oracle was really Barbara Gordon the very first Batgirl. She had been shot and crippled by the Joker. As compensation Batman had set her up as Oracle and computer technician who brokered information for the Bat group as well as other super hero teams. Nightwing had had a crush on her since Bruce had asked her to keep an eye on him when he had just arrived at the mansion to live when he was a precocious 14 year old boy and she was 17. As his relationship with Babs had become more serious. Nightwing found himself paying her more nocturnal calls after he had finished patrolling the streets of Bludhaven where he lived. He used to reserve weekends for her, but lately he found himself wanting to be with her all the time. Many questioned why a guy with his soap opera hunk looks would spend time with a woman who too them looked 'mousy'. He had had the Playboy look-a-likes and they did nothing for him long term. To him Barbara Gordon was the real thing. To him she was the sexiest woman alive.

He could truly imagine himself spending the rest of his life with her. He found her so warm and comforting, being with her at the Clock tower was the only place he felt truly at home. More so even than Wayne Manor the humungous home that he had lived for five years under the hand of Bruce Wayne, the Batman. Not that he had not been grateful to Bruce. But with his working class and circus background, Dick always felt like a fish out of water in that rich aristocratic world. He used to park his car near to her "Clock Tower", but as his visits were becoming more frequent, he didn't want people to put two and two together. So he started to vary parking of the car. Nightwing landed on top of a complex of condos in midtown Gotham eight blocks from where the Clock Tower is located. When he spotted Huntress.

He stopped and admired her form. And recalled the night of passion he had spent her. While he had enjoyed it at the time. He recognized it for what it was a couple of hours of raw sex. Nothing more. He knew that nothing would ever come of it. To him she was really no different to him than the girls he used to sleep with back in college and high school. Oh she was definitely a hot woman, but not his type. Way too high maintenance for his tastes. And apart from an enthusiasm for crime fighting. They both had absolutely nothing in common. And it appeared that Huntress wanted to put it as far behind her as possible as well. No, Oracle, was the woman for him, always had been and probably always would be.

Then almost as if out of nowhere he saw Batman appear and land on the roof beside her. He reached for her arm, But Huntress pushed him away.

"Uh-oh," Nightwing murmured, "This does not look good."

Batman and Huntress together went together like oil and water. They were bound to get into a fight and do irreparable damage to each other. Nightwing was about to release his grappling gun and join them when he saw something that almost made him drop his line. Batman grabbed Huntress once more, and pulled her to him. This time she did not resist. He embraced her and she embraced him back. Soon they were kissing passionately. They held the embrace for several moments until, Batman placed an arm around her waist and released his grappling gun and they went sailing off into the night.

"Oh my God," Nightwing whispered, "I can't believe it. Batman and Huntress are lovers!"

Nightwing climbed into Oracle's clock tower in a daze.

He found her sitting before her bank of monitors.

"Dick is that you?" she asked.

"Yeah it's me," he replied walking up to her. He bent his head and kissed her on the crown her head.

"I'm almost finished here. I'm just keeping track on a drug shipment from some Brazillian kingpin. As soon as I up load this information to the JSA I'll be with you. There's some dinner in the oven if you want."

"Not really hungry," he murmured. The way he said it made Barbara turn around and look at him sharply.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked, "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah pretty much," Nightwing said removing his mask. He threw it down on top of a nearby monitor.

"What happened?"

"You want to finish what you're doing?"

Barbara turned and looked at the monitor it was unchanged.

"No he's not going anywhere. It'll keep. What happened?"

"I just saw Batman on the roof tops. You wouldn't believe who he was with"

"Who Catwoman?"

"No. No not Selina. Huntress."

"And…is that supposed to mean something? She lives and functions in Gotham City Dick. It's no surprise that they'll run into each into each other from time to time."

"You don't get it Babs. She was in his arms. They were kissing."

"Kissing?" Barbara said in disbelief, "You mean as in lip locked?"

"No more than that. I mean they were making out heavily. Swallowing each others tongues the whole nine yards. I swear they were going to drop and do it there."

"Oh my God," Barbara said horrified.

"Yeah that's what I said too."

"Are you sure it was Huntress?" Barbara asked.

"Yes, well unless he's taken to paying women to dress up as Huntress, as some kind of sex…actually I prefer it be Helena."

"I can't believe it!"

"Neither can I!" said Dick, "I would never have thought, after all these years."

"Wow," Barbara breathed, "Have you spoken to Bruce about this?"

"No," Dick said he leaned against an empty space, "I just saw it unfold twenty minutes ago. I'm glad I was on solid ground when I saw it happen. Because if I had been between buildings I would have dropped my jump line."

Both Dick and Barbara were silent for a few moments.

"I wonder what she has planned?" Barbara mused.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked.

"I mean Helena being with Batman. She's been trying to get into the group for years!"

"Oh come on Babs you can't mean…!" Dick didn't finish, "I mean God knows I don't like her… very much. But I just have a hard time buying that. I mean don't you think she would have tried that before?"

"Guess so," Babs admitted.

"Besides, Bruce is the one to make that kind of decision as to who he lets' in. And he's not that far influenced by a woman's seductive charms. Look how many women who've tried that and he's blown off? Besides don't you think that was her intention Huntress would have tried to seduce him already?"

"Maybe she has."

"Babs I doubt that very much. They fight like an old married couple. Always have. Since day one when she popped up on the scene."

"Good point," Barbara said.

"I think that I'll give her the benefit of the doubt for now. I think that there is something more going on here. More than meets the eye. I'm seeing Bruce tomorrow. I'll ask him what's going on."

88888888

"She sure is beautiful," Dick Grayson in sheer and utter admiration gazing at the McLaren before him. Both he and Bruce stood inside the car port that housed his fleet of cars. He owned 15 of them. The McLaren was his latest acquisition. When Dick had been younger and residing at the mansion, he had had the opportunity to drive all of Bruce's cars. The Boxter, the Ferrari, the Lotus, the Lamborghini. But as far as Dick Grayson was concerned they were nothing compared to his Baracuda, he had just finished fixing it up and it ran like a charm. He was now working on a Transam. He had found it sitting up on blocks in someone's back yard during a local police call. He took note of the address and spoken to the owner and bought it. The engine of course was gone. But the shell was nice. Dick dedicated 4 hours a week working on it.

"It must have cost you a fortune," Dick breathed.

"It cost me enough," Bruce admitted.

"I thought that these were no longer in production."

"They aren't," Bruce said running a gloved hand tenderly along the roof of the car, "I bought it from a sheik in Saudi Arabia. He had to un load some of his…properties and sold me this one at a relatively good price. The dry air over there really has preserved it very well.

"Speaking of pretty things," Dick said slowly, "I saw you out on patrol the other night on patrol."

"And?" Bruce asked.

"And you were with someone. Huntress. You were on top of a building, necking like a pair of teenagers."

Bruce's cheeks flushed slightly.

"How long has this been going on?" Dick asked.

"Some weeks," Bruce said curtly.

"And were you going to tell any of us?" Dick asked hotly.

"No. It's none of your business."

"Come on Bruce!"

"Why are you suddenly interested in who I am seeing?"

"Bruce this is not just any woman! This is Huntress, you two have been at each others throats since day one. You've fought for years!"

"And that's changed!" Bruce snapped, "We've both put that behind us."

"What brought this on?"

"I am not getting into this with you Dick," Bruce said opening the door of the McLaren.

"I think you owe-"

"I don't owe you a damned thing. Not when it comes to my personal affairs. What's between Helena and myself stays between Helena and myself. I don't pry into your relationship, so I would appreciate it if you would stay out of mine!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Full Steam Ahead**

Ofir walked into his fathers office early one morning, and found him sitting at his conference table, surrounded by five men dressed in shirt sleeves. Ofir recognized them all as being the heads of the production staff at Apotix. They were responsible for getting out the various types of medicines which the company produced. Ofir had read each of their very impressive bios. They were all very educated and very competent in each of their fields. He also was aware that they all had very high opinions of themselves and thought that they were the mitigating factor behind the companies success and finances. Little did they know, Ofir thought wryly, what actual little impact they actually had in the companies' profits. And that most of it was due to the activities of Ofir and his ex-army buddies. Or more to the point, 'Desert Wind' as they had christened themselves a few nights ago.

Calev looked up when he saw his son enter the room and turned back to them men. He pushed out his chair a little signifying that the meeting had come to an end.

"…..Thank you gentlemen for coming here today….and I want you all to know how valuable you have been in not only the continued success of Apotix but in saving the lives of millions upon millions of people around the world. Let's get together again on Friday morning."

Ofir watched as they streamed out of the room nodding here and there to the men he knew personally. Once they were gone, Calev rose to his feet and crossed the room to his desk.

"I expected to hear from you earlier," he said sharply.

"I got in late last night," Ofir said slowly.

"Then you should have called," Calev snapped.

"I'm here," he said evenly. He wasn't in the mood to get into it with his father, especially not this morning. He had been so keen on seeing Helena again that he had forgone sleep and had gone to the gym shortly after he had returned home. Unfortunately she had not been there. And he was still disappointed by that. He had actually thought that they were getting somewhere. The last time he had seen her four mornings ago she had responded to his 'Hello' by saying 'Hi' in return. She then shook her head as if puzzled and moved on. David had told him that most men normally gave up after the first few tries, they were never as persistent as Ofir. God he felt like a school boy, excited that a girl had actually told him 'hello'. But he knew in his heart why he was happy because of….

"So is everything final?" Calev demanded taking a seat behind his desk

"Yes," Ofir said crossing his arms across his chest, "The Bikers are done."

"How done?"

"Done. They won't be bothering us or interfering in our affairs that's for sure."

"I read something about a raid on their Club House," Calev said tapping the folded newspaper which sat at the top right hand corner of the desk. "It seems as if they were making porno films in the back of their club with under age girls."

"The girls were immigrants from Guatemala. Your friend Rifkin set us up with. They'll testify against the bikers And in exchange will get assistance with immigration. And jobs. Not to mention protection from Desert Wind."

"Desert Wind?"

"Yes, that's the name we've chosen to call ourselves."

Calev grunted, "Don't get too carried away with this superhero costume nonsense."

"If you remember it was your idea," Ofir said pointedly.

"Yes I know," Calev said brusquely, "But that was only to scare the criminal element in Gotham."

"And it is working. But we still need a certain attitude."

"Speaking of which," Calev replied, "Have you run into this "Batman yet?"

"No," Ofir replied, "I haven't. None of us have. In fact I am beginning to think that he really is an urban myth."

"Well whatever the case. It does not hurt to be prepared."

"Of course not."

"Then we're all ready to go full steam ahead?"

"On our end yes. We have all the territory mapped up. But we still need supplies. When's this shin dig with Wayne to occur?"

"Next week Tuesday. I want you there Ofir. It is important that we show a united front."

"I don't like parties."

"Well you will like this one. Especially since it has the potential to net you millions."

**Old Night Stand **

Helena was about to cross, the street and head towards her favourite bistro in the east village. When a beautiful red Ferrari Testarossa crossed her path. She recognized the driver as being Sammy Bonanza. One of the foot soldiers for Galente. She wondered if Galente knew that one of his underlings was running around in such a flashy and ostentatious car drawing attention to himself. She was sure that Galente was not paying Calveri that much money for him to afford a Ferrari. What was going on with the mob, she wondered. She'd have to check it out soon. But as Huntress.

She walked into the bistro and ordered lunch. A cup of espresso, a grilled chicken sandwich on whole wheat bread, and a bottle of water. She then took a seat outside at one of the patio tables. It was a beautiful spring afternoon warmer than usual for April. The city was just shrugging off the harshness of the notoriously cold Gotham winters. Most people were out without jackets; Helena herself was wearing black jodhpurs and a white short-sleeved shirt.

Her olive skin glowed with health from the vigorous work out she had just participated in at the gym. Her last class had ended at ended at 1pm. And she had headed straight to the gym and had participated in a very intense 60 minute work out. At that time of the day the gym was mostly empty, meaning that Helena was free from bother. Especially from that annoying guy with the funny accent, who wouldn't stop hitting on her. She had tried to give him the cold shoulder—and let him know that she was not interested. But still he persisted on giving her a cheery 'goodmorning' each time that he saw her. She was tempted to ask some of the 'wise guys' who worked out there, goons for the Panessa family, to scare him off. One word from them, and she was certain it would be enough make him pee his yuppie shorts and leave her alone. Helena fished out a copy of the 'Gotham' magazine out of her gym bag. 'Gotham' was a current affairs magazine, which reported on goings on in the city. Normally Helena did not read the magazine which she considered to be shallow and superficial. But she found that she couldn't resist this time, because Bruce Wayne's handsome face was on the cover. He was smiling gamely for the camera. A year ago— a month even she would never have cared. She would have maintained that he wasn't her type. Something she was finding out to be more untrue each time she met him. He was definitely her type in more ways than one. And she meant more than simply due to the fact that he was Batman. She was growing very attached to him, and almost had to wonder if she was falling in love with him.

Helena flipped through the magazine and went straight to the business section. There was an article on a pending merger between Wayne Enterprises and Apotix pharmaceuticals. It would involve the creation of new vaccines and medicines for 3rd world countries. The deal was to purportedly to net both companies profits in the billions of dollars.

Thinking that perhaps she would catch a movie, Helena flipped to society/entertainment section. On the inside page there a picture of Bruce on, on his arm was the latest "It" Hollywood starlet. Bruce had sheepish grin on his face. The insinuation was quite clear. Helena might have felt jealous had she not known that the three hours after the picture was taken, Batman and Huntress were patrolling the city. Five hours later they were on the living room floor of Bruce Wayne's penthouse making passionate love. Helena smiled at the memory.

"I don't know who you're banging sweetheart," Helena murmured, "But it sure ain't my man."

"Is that smile for me?"

Helena looked up and saw a young man, just shy of six feet, about medium build, jet black hair, wearing faded jeans, a black bomber jacket and aviator glasses.

He was good looking in a soap opera hunk kind of way as opposed to Bruce's classical rugged handsomeness. Which was what she preferred.

"Dick Grayson?" she asked.

He removed the aviators revealing bright baby blue eyes.

"Did he tell you who I was?" He asked grinning down at her.

"No," Helena replied, "I figured it out on my own. Once I found out who he really was. The rest was pretty easy to figure out. Besides. I could never forget those baby blues."

"Oh I'm flattered," Dick said placing a hand over his chest, "But tell me Helena…Is that all you remember? My baby blues?"

Helena resisted a smile and gave a feigned sigh.

"Afraid so."

"You are a cruel woman Helena Bertinelli," Dick said dropping into the chair across from her.

"Just telling it like it is."

"Never hold back the truth do you?"

"A wise man once said the truth will set you free. And I hold to that."

"Uh huh," Dick said. He shrugged out of his bomber jacket revealing a tight white t-shirt that nicely out lined his hard well defined muscular body. Many women in the superhero community dreamed about touching that body. Much the way they had dreamed about doing the same thing to Batman.

She had experienced both of those dreams.

But Batman was her reality and she liked it.

"So Dick what brings you to this part of Gotham?"

"I was in the neighborhood and I saw you crossing the street. I thought that I would say hi."

"Oracle know you're here?"

"Why should she?"

"She seems to have you…" Helena wanted to say have him on a short leash but resisted, "She seems to be well aware of where you are at all times."

"That's not true."

"You could have fooled me."

"That's harsh Helena. And it isn't necessary," Dick said his eyes narrowing.

"Sorry," she said waving dismissively, "But Oracle has never been particularly nice to me. In fact she's been downright nasty. And I'm a bit tired of turning the other cheek with her."

"Look Helena you have to be patient. Things haven't been easy on her. You don't know this but she hasn't always been in a wheel chair her entire life. In fact she used to be quite mobile and a former athlete. She's still getting used to this life…and it isn't easy on her."

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Of course I'm sure. What else could there be?"

"Well there is you and me.."

"That was nothing Helena. I thought we both agreed it was a mistake and it could never work."

"Yes I know. And so do you. But the question is does she know?"

Dick looked at her speechless for a moment. But then nodded.

"Yes she should. You and me..that was way before she and I..became committed."

"Committed huh?" Helena said somewhat sardonically, "Well then Dick I don't know what her problem is. But I would really appreciate it if you would ask her to bury the hostility."

"Look Helena. I didn't come here to discuss Oracle with you."

"I didn't think so," she said taking a sip of her espresso.

"What's going on between you and Bruce?"

"How did you find out?"

"Tim--Robin told me. Or he told me that he thought Bruce was seeing someone and being supper secret about it. One night I was patrolling and I saw you both necking on top of a building. I almost let go of my jump line."

"Well it's a good thing you didn't."

"Does he know about…" Dick couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"About our fling?" she asked.

Dick nodded.

"Yep," she replied, "Actually he already knew."

"He did?" Dick said surprised.

"Yes he did," Helena said, "I take it that you two had a talk?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

"That it was none of my concern. And that I should keep out of it."

"Well there you go. So why are you here then?"

"I wanted to hear your side of the story."

"My side of the story?"

"Yeah. When we….You just as much admitted that you did it only to get into the Bat group."

"Oh come on Dick," Helena scoffed putting down her coffee cup, "I didn't force you. You were quite the willing participant. Actually you were so eager I almost thought that it was your first time."

"Helena!" Dick protested blushing furiously.

"What Dick. Did I just say something to contradict the rave reviews you've received from other women?"

"You know with your mouth.."

"I'm Sicilian Dick. What you see is what you get," Helena said shrugging.

"Is this what you've resorted to Helena. Seducing Batman to get into the Bat group?"

Helena's face contorted as if she were going to say something nasty. But she controlled herself.

"You know what? Bruce is right. This is none of your business. But just to get you out of my hair. I'll let you in on a little secret. I didn't approach him. He came to me."

"That's impossible," Dick said, "You both have been at each others throats since day one. You've never gotten along!"

"Yes but what we thought was hostility was really suppressed passion."

"Suppressed passion? What are you doing Helena writing a romance novel?"

"Hey you don't have to believe me," she said holding up both hands in protestation, "But it's the truth. "

"You know you're right. I should have see it before," said Dick.

"The night we worked together. You kept asking questions about him. Batman this, Batman that. I thought that you were interested in just getting into the group. I had no idea you had a crush on him."

"Are you cool with this Dick?" Helena asked.

"I don't know," Dick shrugged, "I mean apart from what you just said. There's also your history, I hope you get why I am so skeptical."

"That's understandable. But Bruce and I really belong together. We connect so well on a spiritual level."

Dick smiled.

"Okay so besides the great sex. What else do you have in common?"

"A lot. We're coming from the same place."

"I know," Dick said placing his hands behind his head," And that can be prove to be quite a serious problem down the road."

"That's the past. I like to think that things are much more different now. We've let down our guard."

"Helena," Dick said, "I don't want to rain down on your parade. But I've known Bruce since I was a 14-year-old kid. That's 11 years and he's never opened up to me. I mean I know him and how he operates. But he's a very private man. He doesn't open up very easily to people."

"I know Dick," Helena said so sharply that it startled Dick.

"Look Helena…I am not trying to discourage you. I'm just trying to make you see reality and what might happen down the road."

"Actually I would prefer to be hopeful," she replied her brown eyes beginning to light up.

"Helena-"

"Look Dick," Helena said her temper finally coming to a boil, "You say that you don't want to rain on my parade. But you're doing just that. Trust me I remember my past with Bruce all too well. But I prefer to let bygones be bygones. For the first time in a really, really long time I am actually happy. I like being with Bruce. And Bruce likes being with me. I won't allow you or anyone else spoil what we have."

And with that she threw down a five dollar bill on the table, grabbed her gym bag and left. Leaving a chastened Dick Grayson.

**Afternoon Meeting**

Bruce Wayne walked through the reception area to his office shortly after 1pm.

Lucy Church, his personal secretary was behind her desk busy typing on her computer. She looked up when he entered.

"Goodmorning or should I say good afternoon Mr. Wayne."

"Hello Lucy," he greeted, "Any messages?"

"Just a few," she said passing him six notes. Bruce took them from her.

"Oh and Natalie Sheldon called to find out if you were in."

"Yes. I have a meeting with her at 1pm. Call her and let her know I'm in."

"Will do. I was about to break for lunch. Charlene should be here any minute."

"You go on ahead Lucy," Bruce said, "Just put the phone on call forward."

"Will do Mr. Wayne."

Bruce entered his office and began to riffle through his messages. Two of them were from investment houses who wanted to know about the status of the company. Three of them were charities. And one from a model he had met at a party and flirted with some weeks back. Well there was no need for her now, not that he was serious about Helena. He threw her message in the trash. He then checked his voice mail. Only a handful of people had access to his direct office line. Nothing out of the ordinary just the usual from world leaders who were anxious for a Wayne subsidiary to open in their countries. Some were his fellow CEO's and prominent American politicians.

However he was particularly interested in hearing from one person.

Helena.

They had not talked in over two days, and the last time he had seen her was three days ago. But she had not called. Though on one hand it did please him. He was glad that she had her own life and was not on the horn to him every hour of every day. He did not like desperate or clingy women. But still he missed her. He would have to do something about that, tonight.

He was about to pick up the phone to call her when there was a light tap on door. Bruce looked up to find Natalie Sheldon standing there. Now that Lucious was incapacitated and Bruce was in his place as CEO. Sheldon was effectively his 'number one' and right hand. She had been lured over from Goodman Sachs by Lucious Fox, mostly for her managerial skills. She was straight with Bruce but not overbearing like some of the women in business who had a chip on their shoulder and had something to prove. He often used her to keep the underlings in line. She was tough but fair. Direct and to the point. And adept at handling some of the blue bloods whom came to work for Wayne (many whom thought they were entitled to their positions at WE and did not have to do a stitch of work) because she was one of them. She came from 'Old' California money, and had attended Vassar and Harvard. So she knew how to handle some of the blue bloods who came to work for her. She knew how to keep everyone in line. People who were not willing to work or perform well, were quickly shown the door.

Over the years they had struck up a kind of a friendship. He had always preferred the company of women to men. He liked them and found them more interesting and fascinating. Especially the intelligent ones. He was aware of the whispers that they were or had been lovers. Nothing could be further from the truth. There had never been anything untoward between them. He knew she was in love with her husband, Steve Sheldon. Whom she had met while they had both been working on their MBA's at Harvard. Sheldon was a consultant who worked from home ever since a freak accident 5 years ago when he had fallen off his horse during a polo game and had been trampled by other horses. His back had been crushed and he was now a paraplegic, confined to a wheel chair. Bruce had been at the tournament, and had never forgotten it.

"Hey Nat," he said cheerfully, "How's it going?"

"Fine," she said walking into the room and smiling she took a seat in the chair opposite from his desk, "I spoke to the crew this morning and everything is all set for the gala and beyond."

"Great. I'm sorry I missed that," Bruce lied.

Bruce had gone over the preliminaries with Sheldon the previous evening. He hadn't really had not been needed at that meeting except for show. He had already decided who he wanted to be in charge of various aspects of the project and he had conveyed these wishes to Sheldon. His time had been put to better use in other areas.

Bruce had been on the go since 5am that morning. After a vigorous work out at his home gym. He had participated in a conference call with members of the JLA to discuss Intergangs' recent activities and what should be done about it. He then had a quick breakfast, before leaving for the Gotham City Athletic club and a game of squash with Scott Templeton CEO of Gothcorp one of his main rivals. Bruce had wisely allowed Templeton to win the game.

At nine he walked into the small mini tv studio on the 6th floor of Wayne Tower to conduct a series of interviews with a various overseas television networks. It was very important that he do this interview in order to provide a good impression to overseas investors. Especially the Germans and the Chinese who held a lot of money, and had the potential to sink that capital in his company.

Bruce tried to look as serious and as studious as possible. He even went so far as to borrow a bit from his Batman persona to pull it off. In order to give the impression that he was in charge. The Germans and Chinese did not care how charming and good looking he was. He respected them for that.

At noon he went to Masa, Gotham's most up scale Japanese restaurant, to have lunch with Jenna Masson. She was the cities top female stock broker and held sway amongst other brokers. A word from her could send stocks skyrocketing or conversely send them plummeting.

She had grilled him about the state of Wayne Enterprises finances. Every so often she would steer the conversation towards his dating status. Which Bruce laughed off by stating that he was already involved with his work. Masson was bright, but prickly and Bruce had to be very mindful of her delicate ego.

Bruce remembered how at one point and time he would not have minded sleeping with her. She was around his age and very sexy. That was until he heard reports of how she still stalked and harassed her ex-husband who had made the 'mistake' of leaving her. Bruce shuddered to think how lucky he had been at dodging that bullet. Life was complicated enough for him as it was.

The press releases made to the appropriate news and media organizations including The Wall Street Journal, Forbes and Business Weekly. Not only would this help put him back on top. It would help to squelch the undeserved rumours that he was nothing but a light weight who couldn't run his own company. And help stop the tumble of stocks once and for all.

"So all the troops are ready?"

"Everyone knows their places," she said, "I spoke with the planner at the Garrison and he said everything is all ago. All that's needed are the main players."

"Will Steve be with you?"

"Yes. He's agreed to come. How about you. Any one special?"

Bruce thought

"Yeah. Yes there is," he said with a smile.

"So you're dating again?"

"I'm seeing someone. It's kind of serious."

"Has she been modeling very long?"

"She's not a model Natalie."

"Oh a secret lady friend then."

"It's not like you think. She's not a celebrity. Just a woman I met---at an unveiling. She's a school teacher."

"That's different. The press will love that one."

Bruce froze. The press, how could he have forgotten. Helena was extremely private, she would want to stay out of the limelight.

"Sorry?" he asked startled.

Sheldon stopped as if picking up Bruce's cue.

"The press. I just know how fascinated they are by your private life. Especially your..romantic affairs. I haven't seen anything serious since…" She paused.

Bruce looked at her.

"You mean Vesper?" he asked.

"Yes her. Vesper."

"There really hasn't been anyone…special… Natalie. Not since everything with Lucious. I've just had too much on my plate. But this person I'm seeing. I hope that it changes all of that."

**The Boob Tube**

Helena Bertinelli stood back from the bathroom mirror and looked at the stunning blue eyed platinum blond she had morphed into. It was a stunning transformation. The wig she had rented the contacts she had bought. She had learned after taking an evening course on how to apply theatrical make up. While she certainly did not look like some Nordic Princess. She was certain that in the place where she was going, no one would notice her Southern Italian features. But she certainly did look like a trashy stripper. Her mother would be turning over in her grave if she could see her today. But she remembered that she was doing all of his for her Mom, and her memory.

She then went back into he bedroom and picked up the dress on the bed. It was the trashiest dress she had, and hailed back to her student days at University when she used to go to clubs with her girlfriends. She didn't like it but she had bought it in order to fit in. Not that she had ever had in the first place. She felt like an outsider and normally just ended up hugging the wall and being ignored by the guys. Except of course for Paolo….

Helena shook her head to clear her mind. Enough sentimentally.

Putting on an overcoat walked a few blocks from her house and took to the dockyards located on Gotham's west side. She was let off in front of 'The Boob Tube'. The Boob Tube was one of Gotham Cities most notorious strip clubs. It catered mostly to the stevedores and longshoreman who worked alongside the ships. But more to the point it was owned by Pasquale Galente and was a hang out for many of the mobsters.

There were many other hang outs in for men in Gotham. But this is the only one where she in which she could get easy access to, without planting a bug. Every other Wednesday night was known as 'Amateur night' where would be strippers could audition for slots at the club. Helena knew because she had overheard a conversation between two men at her gym talking about it.

Helena told the doorman who she was. And he led her to a heavy set man wearing an ill fitting suit sitting by the bar he said his name was Sergio.

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"Chrissy," Helena said meekly.

Sergio stared at her chest as if he found her lacking. While Helena was certainly by no means flat as a board. She knew that she was nowhere as well endowed as the women who stripped at the club. The posters of girls who were on the boards outside were more on the voluptuous side. Some to the point where their breasts actually looked bigger than their heads. Well no matter she thought, Bruce thought that she was hot. And she did not need attention from lecherous pigs to augment her self-esteem.

She knew that prospects of being hired on here were slim to none. But in truth she did not want to be hired. She just wanted to know what was going on with Galente.

She was directed to a backroom change room where she could change into her gear. She already found five other women there also changing. Some gave her a half hearted hello the others studiously ignored her. Once Helena had changed into her costume—a nurses uniform-that she had rented. She went into a side room off from the stage to wait her turn.

Helena stood in the doorway pretending to watch the stripper on stage. When in reality she was scanning the room to see what was going on. Most of them were the type of guys you would expect to see at a strip club. But in a booth by the middle she noticed two goombah's wearing suits heavy chain, with their arms around two women. Helena recognized one of them being the same guy she had seen earlier in the car Sammy Bonanza and the other being Mario Franchetti. They were laughing loudly and drinking from what looked to be large bottles of champagne. Five minutes later Pasquale Galente walked through the door, wearing a heavy overcoat followed by two of his bodyguards Mad Tony and Bartolo Pizzelli.

Sergio ran towards Galante like a servile lackey. But Galente waved him off. Helena could not hear what was going on over the loud throbbing techno music. But the expression on his face was very telling, he looked furious.

He moved towards them, his arms waving angrily. At first the Bonanza looked frightened at seeing the mafia kingpin. But Franchetti looked unfazed he waved his hand to an empty seat in a gesture for Galente to sit down.

Galente's gestures became more enraged and he moved to reach out and grab Franchetti. But one of his men restrained him. Franchetti laughed at him…and so did all the women at the table.

"Don't own me!" was all Helena heard because she was being prodded from behind. She turned and found the woman behind her telling her it was her turn. Helena climbed up on stage and started her routine, just as Galente walked to the back of the club with his men in tow. He turned to them and yelled for them to remain where they were.

Helena had planned to fail. Between her awkwardness and the music she had chosen—an annoying tune by a boy band. Were designed to make her disfavor with the crowd. And it worked. It did not take long for them to start booing her start yelling insults at her. When she had finished her routine and got off the stage and saw the other girls laughing at her. Sergio was glaring at her.

"We'll call you," he said coldly.

Helena resisted smiling. She was glad that she was unfit for the business.

After changing she made her way back out into the hallway and was about to leave when she over heard animated voices coming from an upper level. Even from the distance of where she was she recognized it as being Galente. The man had a vicious temper. Slowly she made her way down the hall, until she found a short flight of stairs, the door was slightly ajar, but light was streaming through it. She mounted the stairs half way and stopped to listen.

"I ain't playing with you," came Galente's voice.

"What a coincidence Galente," she heard someone say. But the voice sounded weird and artificial, "Cause we aren't playing either. I want you to pull all of your heroine. Our drug is to remain front and center and will be the only drug that you deal. You make sure that All your people know that Galente. Or we will.."

"Hey!" someone called at the bottom of the stairs. Helena looked down and saw Sergio, "Hey you! What do you think that you are doing!" Helena's heart began to beat faster and she began to make her way slowly down the stairs.

"I was looking for the bathroom," Helena replied. Evidently he did not buy her story because he came charging towards her. Bracing one hand on the banister and one on the wall for support she reared back and kicked him in the face with her the toes of her stiletto boots. Sergio head snapped back and he went tumbling backwards down the stairs. Light strewn the stairwell as the Galente's office door opened wider. Helena looked back and saw Pasquale Galente standing at the top of the stairs.

"What the hell is going on here!" he shouted. Helena grabbed the

banister with both hands and propelled herself over it and down on to the floor. Landing on the balls of her feet. Behind her she heard she heard the pounding of footsteps down the hall towards her were Galente's men running down the hall the front of the club. Helena did not bother to look back and raced towards the rear exit. "Stop her!" Galente roared.

Helena tried the handle on the back door. But it was locked. She cursed loudly.

By this time Galente's thugs had reached her and she was cornered. It was 'Mad Tony'. She had kicked his ass before, as Huntress and not in stilettos. Oh well…one could only make use of what they had.

Helena reared back and kicked at the handle with all of her strength. It only budged slightly. She did so again it moved some more but did not open. One of the men was already upon her. She whirled and hit him solidly under the chin with the heel of her hand. He went staggering backwards. His companion began to reach inside his coat for what she was sure was his gun. But Helena was faster and she slammed her fist into his soft gut. The goombah doubled over in pain. She grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and took out his Magnum 50A. She trained it on both men for a second.

"Stay down!" she screamed at both of them. She fired a shot into the floor just inches from both of them for good measure. They both shrunk back in fright. Helena then spun on her heels and used the gun to shoot off the lock on the door. The lock fell off and Helena went charging out the door. She found herself in a back alley and raced down it and found herself in the adjoining street. She ran to a nearby parked car. And tried the back door. She ran around to the other side facing the street and crouched down. Her heart pounding loudly. Off to the side she could hear footsteps pounding down the graveled side road.

"Where is she?" one of them asked.

"Gone. She must have gone down the other way."

"Damn!"

"Come on!"

Helena waited until she could no longer hear their retreating footsteps and peered over the hood of the car. They were gone and no one else was out on the street. With her heart still pounding hard she retrieved a cell phone from her pocket and called it to the address outside from where she stood. It arrived within a minute.

When she limped into her loft half an hour later she found Batman

standing in her living room gazing at the prints on her living room wall. He raised a surprised brow at seeing her.

"Are you going for a new look?" he asked.

"Well you know what they say," she said making her way over to him, "Gentlemen prefer blonds."

Batman snorted.

"Personally I like you as a brunette," he reached out with a gloved hand to touch a lock of her blond hair, "You look…."

"Trashy?"

"Yes."

"That was the desired effect," Helena said. She then went on to explain what had transpired that evening.

"You think that Galente is being controlled by someone?"

"That's what it seemed like. He really sounded scared."

"Were you able to see who it was talking to him?"

"No. I only got part of the conversation. Because one of the goons were coming."

"You know it could easily be an inter Mafia rivalry."

"Could be. But Galente really sounded agitated. I'm going to look into this some more."

"What are your plans for this weekend?" he asked changing the subject.

"I just planned on doing some chores around the house. And probably writing a test. Mid terms are coming up."

"Can you do that at my place?"  
"Your place?"

"Yes I mean my official residence. Wayne Manor, not the penthouse. I thought that we could spend the weekend there together."  
Helena had force herself sounding too enthusiastic.

"I'd love to join you at your mansion for the weekend. I can mark papers there just as well as I can anywhere at home."

"Great. Pack a bag. And meet at the top of the brownstone on Rutherford."

"On the top of the brownstone on Rutherford. You mean you want me to meet you dressed as Huntress?"

He smiled.

"Yes. I want you to dress as Huntress."


	20. Chapter 20

**The Cave**

The following evening Huntress stood at the top of a low rise apartment building just a block from where she lived. Beside her sat a vinyl gym bag, with enough clothes and toiletries to get her through the weekend. Along with her own lap top. Batman arrived about 15 minutes later and took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

"Are you ready?" he asked nuzzling her nose.

"Yes. As I'll ever be. I guess this means we're now a serious couple," she said.

"And why do you say that?"  
"Well," she began rubbing his arms, "You're finally taking me home to meet your Mom----oh crap!" she said horrified.

"Don't worry about that. She'll love you," Batman said with a small smile stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"What?" she asked puzzled

"Come on," he said taking her bag, "You'll see."

The Batmobile, was parked in an alley down below. It was so well camouflaged against the wall, she almost did not see it at first. When they were two feet away the doors slid open effortlessly and they both climbed inside. She had been inside the Batmobile once a long time ago, And she had never forgotten it. It looked like the cockpit of a commercial airplane. Batman hit a few buttons and there was a gentle hum as the car started up, and pulled out onto the main street.

"Put this on," he said handing her a scarf after they had crossed the bridge off of Gotham Island proper.

"What's this?" she asked taking it from him.

"A blindfold," he said without taking his eyes off the road.

"You're not getting kinky on me already, are you Bruce?" she teased.

"No not yet," he laughed.

"Then why the blindfold? Are you afraid I'll betray you one day and lead your enemies to your hide out?"

"No. I just want this to be a surprise," he replied, "Just go on -- put it on."

"Okay…" she said and tied it around her head. They continued along for several more minutes, until suddenly the car jumped slightly and Huntress felt a slight shift in sound as if they were going through a tunnel. Then the car slowed down to a slow crawl.

"Can I take it off now?" she asked.

"Just one second."

Huntress felt the car crawl to a stop.

"Okay now," he said

"Finally," she said reaching up to remove the handkerchief. And then she saw it.

The Cave.

Nothing from what Nightwing and Robin had told her could have prepared her for the sheer size of it.

"Oh my God! This is it?" she breathed

"This is just part of it," he said giving her a smile. He turned off the engine and opened the door, "Come on."

She followed his lead and climbed out.

"This is incredible,"

"Not too shabby is it?" he grinned.

"Oh Come on!" she exclaimed incredulously turning to look at him. The place must have been the size of a football stadium. It was large, airy and very clean.

She looked up and saw on the statelites on the ceiling and Bats hanging from them.

"Well I guess it isn't called the Batcave for nothing," she said.

"Those are only a few stragglers. There used to be thousands before. But they've moved on. These are just a few dozen or so stubborn hangers on."

"The place seems to be remarkably clean…"

Batman got her meaning.

"They're catch basins situated around the cave. We also caught most of them and had them vaccinated."

"Tell me Bruce, If you had caught me that night would you have brought me here?" she asked referring to the time of the NML when she had been 'Batgirl' and they had worked together briefly.

"At that time? No. Not this one anyway."

"You have other ones?" she asked but before he could reply she said "That's right you do. There was the one we worked out of during NML."

"Oh that's one of the satellite ones," he admitted.

"Bruce this…this is fantastic!" She breathed stepping out further and turning around to look at it all, "But it must be hell to maintain. Just the power alone. How do you keep this off the Gotham City electrical grid?"

"There's a hydrogen generator down below. It runs power for the entire cave. But it only runs on full capacity when the system is being used. There's a full security system complete with motion detector. The generator and power only kicks in when there's someone down here."

"It must have taken you ages to build this place up."

"Yes it took some time. But this is not the original one. The first one was destroyed during the great earthquake which led to NML. I had it rebuilt. Along with some other additions which I'll show you later. I discovered this place as a child while I was playing, I fell through an abandoned well that hadn't been sealed up properly. I later found out that the cave was used as a Northern link to ferry escaped slaves."

"Your family was involved in that?" she asked in astonishment.

"Yes," he said with a measure of pride, "My great-great grandfather was an abolitionist. He did most of it on the quiet. Because it wouldn't have been seen as appropriate for someone of his social strata to be involved in cause like that."

"Much the same way that it wouldn't be seen as appropriate for Bruce Wayne to be known as the 'Batman'."

"Yes something like that," he said touching her cheek, "But why don't we discuss that later? There's a change room off to the side. You can leave your costume in there."

He pointed to a small change room off to the side. Huntress took her bag and emerged five minutes later. In a white T-shirt, black yoga tights and running shoes. Bruce had changed as well into a navy turtleneck and black pants. Then he proceeded to lead her on a tour around the room.

To her left she found a hermetically sealed chamber holding what looked to be his costume.

"This is where I keep my costumes," he told her, "All of them."

"How many do you keep?" Helena asked stopping to look at it. It looked so empty and chilling without him in it.

"I have at least 50 on hand at the time. I have them manufactured overseas in bulk and in pieces by various companies. It's easier that way. As you can imagine they go through a lot of wear and tear."

"Yes," Helena replied. She certainly didn't have 50 on hand. She had only two of them. It was all she could afford and all that she had room for in her loft.

She had bought the material for cash- 'off the books' from a salesmen who specialized in making gear for military and paramilitary organizations, And had ended up designing and making the costume herself. She had learned to sew as a child while she was living on her Uncle's farm in Sicily. First as a way of helping her aunt mend clothes. Then after her Uncle and Cousin had let in on what they really did for a living. She had ended up assisting in the sewing of their disguises. The weaponry she made had accumulated over time, from various military shops and martial arts stores. The cross bow she had ordered and had customed built by a company which made them for hunters and sportsmen.

Bruce told her that the cave was effectively divided an upper level and a lower level. The first level housed his fleet of cars and a hanger for his airplane and helicopter, along with the first of two state of the art forensic labs.

The second level, which they got to by using an elevator was far more large and more spacious. It held another forensic lab which he used for criminal profiling and research. The huge and very powerful Bat computer with it's 3 huge computer panels, which were linked to various other computers around the Globe. And a fully equipped work out area. consisting of a weight area, punching bag, horizontal bars, ring towers and pommel horse.

But what Helena found the most interesting, was the part of the cave which he referred to as the trophy room. Most of his trophies were in glass cases. Except of course for the giant dinosaur which she found amusing. Some of the trophies were unique items from unique encounters or cases he had worked on. Such as the notebook from the journalist who had come close to discovering Batman's true identity, or the sword he had used to fight Deathstroke. But the trophies which she had found the most interesting were the various military costumes from the worlds most powerful military leaders. Such as Napoleon, Ghingis Khan, Saladin, Taticius, Ulysses S. Grant, Erwin Rommel amongst many others.

The one which interested her the most was the costume of Julius Caesar. Of all the periods in history which she had devoured, Ancient Rome was her favourite. Covering the glory of Italy, And what it had turned into. Bruce noticed her curiosity and stopped.

"This one is based on what Julius Caesar wore during his campaign in Gaul," he said.

"Yes I know. He was one of histories greatest leaders," she said, "Until he got drunk with power and became a tyrant."

"It was after the death of his friend and rival Pompeii," Bruce said.

"Yeah after that," she said touching the glass.

"Pompeii kept him on his toes. His hatred for him kept him grounded and focused. It was after Pompeii's death that Caesar got out of control and drunk on his own power."

Helena turned to look at him.

"You're not saying that we need enemies are you?"

"What would you and I both do if we did not have rivals or enemies to defeat?" he asked.

"Die of boredom."

He smiled.

"I'm just saying that we all need someone..or something to motivate us and keep us going. And give us a sense of purpose."

"And who was your motivator?" she asked.

Bruce took both of her shoulders in his hands.

"In-justice. The man who murdered my parents. And people like him. I guess I don't have to ask who motivated you."

"Er..who do you think?"

"Your hatred of the mob,"

She shook her head. He leaned in a bit closer.

"Me?" he asked.

"No," she said with a small laugh, "Not you well not completely. I just hate bullies and seeing people being taken advantage of."

Her voice cracked as she added, "I just wanted…"

"I know," he replied cupping the side of her face and kissing her lightly, "I'll show you around in more detail tomorrow….But for now let's go upstairs. I want to show you the house,"

Helena stopped.

"The house? She asked, "You mean we're below Glendale?"

"Yes that's right," he said, "Where did you think we were?"

"Out in the country…"

"Well we are sort of. The estate is very big."

"Is that how you evade suspicion?"

"Glendale likes to take care of it's own," he said cryptically.

"Yes so I've heard," Helena said dryly.

"Hey what did I tell you about gossip?"

"Yeah I know," she smiled.

"Come on," he said taking her by the hand. He led her to a flight of stairs off to the side.

"You climb these?" she asked.

"Yes. But if you're tired we can take the elevator."

"No I'm fine. Just as well I missed out on my cardio today."

Helena thought the climb up the long winding stairs was a workout in and of itself. However when they reached the top, Bruce pressed a button and a panel slid back revealing a hollowed out compartment. He pressed a few digits located on an inside panel and the compartment swung out. Revealing a large room which looked like the combination of a rich paneled den and library. It was much different than the one at his apartment. This one looked more old fashioned and austere and it reeked of a smell that screamed 'old money'.

She stepped inside the room and turned around and saw that the compartment they had stepped through was really a clock. Bruce pressed something and it swung back sealing the entrance from which they had just walked through tight.

"I guess this really gives emphasizes the meaning of 'secret compartment'," Helena remarked, "No would mistake that clock for anything than what it was."

"That's the point," Bruce said, "I use it as the main entrance for going down into the cave. But, as I mentioned before. There's an elevator which is used mostly for moving supplies. But we like to use the stairs."

"This is nice," Helena said turning to examine the room.

"Some of the books were destroyed during the No Man's Land. I'm currently in the process of trying to have many of them restored. I have an antiquarian book dealer looking after that."

"And how's that going?" she asked walking over to the one of the cases. Some of the titles she could tell were not in English.

"It varies. Some of the editions were first editions. But some of the books my father had were 3rd and 4th editions. But I've replaced them with earlier editions. So they ended up canceling themselves out."

There was a discreet sound of a throat being cleared. Helena whirled around and found a tall thin balding man wearing an impeccably pressed three piece suit standing at the doorway.

"Welcome home Master Bruce," he said in a smooth upper crust British accent.

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce said, "This is Helena Bertinelli. Also known as the-"

"Huntress," Alfred said smoothly, "I've heard all about your exploits."

"Only the good ones. I hope," Helena said with a sheepish smile.

"Of course," Alfred replied, "You're a great credit to the people of Gotham. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Thank you," Helena said, "Mr.-…"

"Helena this is Alfred Pennyworth. My Mom, valet and best friend in the whole wide world."

Alfred and Helena shook hands.

"Have you eaten yet?" Alfred asked.

"No. Not really. I had a snack after work…."

"Excellent. I've made a small supper. That is if you both are ready."

"Are you?" Bruce asked turning to Helena.

"I'm starved," she admitted.

"Then come right this way."

Bruce had actually discussed the dinner arrangements before hand. And had instructed the Butler to lay out dinner in the kitchen and not in the large dinning hall. Because it had a tendency to be too large and cold. He wanted it to be more intimate. Once the meal had been served. Alfred excused himself and left. For the next hour or so, Bruce told Helena briefly about the history of the house and the site of the property. However instead of passively listening like most of his dates and nodding here and there. She held up her end of the conversation by bombarding him with questions. It was clear that she was familiar with the history of Gotham. Including the riots of 1908, when an angry mob of out of work men stormed Glendale.

"I'm surprised that you know so much Helena."

"Well I was curious about the history of Gotham and how we got to this point," she said.

"I think it started during the recession in the early 90's. Which not only hit blue collar workers but white collar workers as well. People who you would never expect to get hit were sudden found themselves out on the streets. People became desperate and didn't care what they needed to do in order to survive," he paused, "My parents did though."

"I know," she said solemnly. Funny she thought. Until she had gotten involved with Bruce she had simply dismissed the Wayne's as rich blue bloods who looked down on her people. She had been seduced by her own life experience dealing with snobs. To this day she could still remember the slurs ringing in her ears.

"A lot of cynicism took over the city then, including among the elite. It was a glum time and I remember my Dad doing a lot of work for free. For people who couldn't afford to see a doctor."

"He did?" Helena asked startled, "But I thought that he ran Wayne Enterprises?"

"No my Dad sat on the board full time. But he didn't participate in the day to day running of the business. He didn't care much for the corporate side of life. And instead spent most of his time running a medical practice at Gotham General."

"Sounds like your father was a great man."

"The finest man I ever knew," Bruce said with a measure of pride, "You would have loved him Helena."

"I know," she replied.

"Do you want some more wine?" he asked reaching for the small bottle of sparkling white wine which Alfred had put out for both of them. Bruce had barely touched his. But Helena's was already empty. She was not a teetotaller and had normally had a glass of wine with dinner whenever she was home.

"No," she said with a small laugh, "I am completely stuffed."

"Then why don't I show you around the house…"

"The whole place?" Helena asked shocked.

"No just a few rooms. I'll show you the rest—including the cave tomorrow in more detail."

Bruce took her hand and led her out into the foyer. He told her the name of the architectural firm, which he had used to have it built. Though how they had stayed faithful to the original foundation of the home they had also added a few modern touches, where the house did not look as dark as it did before. He led her up the stairs and showed her some of the paintings hanging along the wall. Most of which were his ancestors. That's my great-great grand uncle Jonathan, he fought in the revolutionary war. My Great grandfather William and his brother Alexander. They were instrumental in the real start of the company. With Wayne Chemicals and Wayne Shipping. It just grew from there."

They talked some more, mostly about the home and Gotham. Bruce showed her some more rooms, and pieces of art that hung on the wall. But he could tell that she was tired.

"My God," Helena said suppressing a yawn, "I'm beat."

"Well it's a good thing I brought you up here then," Bruce said stopping and smiling, "My bedroom's right here."

Helena smiled.

"I take it that you've been waiting to say that all evening?"

"No just years," he said, "I meant what I said before. I've wanted to take you here for a long time."

"You mean 'take' both in as in show and as sexual right?"

"I meant show," he said kissing her again lightly, "You were right in what you said before. That penthouse is mainly a—."

"I know," she finished, covering his mouth with her fingers, "You don't have to explain."

He took her face between both of his large hands and kissed her deeply.

"This…" he said, "Means that I'm damn serious about you and me.

I don't just bring any woman here," he kissed her again, "I want this to work."

"So do I," Helena said her voice trembling a bit.

"Come on," he said hoarsely. They rushed down the corridor and into his bedroom.

* * *

**The O'Malley's**

The air inside O'Malley's Tavern was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Though there must have been at least 50 people in attendance no one moved a muscle because tied down in his underwear and spread eagle on one of the pool tables was Mickey O'Malley, the oldest brother in the family and the head of the large O'Malley family.

The O'Malley's were one of the toughest and most notorious gangs in Gotham. While certainly not as prominent or as powerful as the Italians or the Columbians, they still had their share of influence and ruled 'the Bluff's' with an iron fist. They were responsible for all the heroine flowed inside the Bluffs including the drugs sold amongst the high school kids. They played dirty and were clannish to a fault. The O'Malley's were the only gang in which Desert Wind could not get to play along. They also were protected, by virtue of their Irishness. The GCPD was known for being filled with Irish cops who were known for looking the other way when someone from the O'Malley's ran into trouble with the law. Mickey O'Malley had been the leader of the O'Malley family ever since his father had been sent upset to the federal pen when he was 12 years old for a bank robbery gone wrong. He had been killed a year later during a prison fight. With the help of his brothers Patrick, Collin, Ryan and Ronan. They had muscled their way up to being the biggest and badest gang in the 'Bluff's' in fact they were the only gang in the Bluff's. They had either been absorbed other gangs or had them run out of town. They also instructed any and all residents of the Bluffs that any soliciting of drugs had to be done through them. Not anyone else. As the was so small the other big organized crime organisations did not deem 'The Bluffs' to be worth their time. However Desert Wind was not of this opinion. They dropped in on them one night, an hour after the Boston Celtics had won their division championship. And everyone was blind drunk, and unable to think clearly.

Around Mickey O'Malley's arms were entwined several rows of piano wire. To either side of him stood a member of the Desert Wind, The Black Crow and Green Viper. Both of them held an end of the wire in their hands.

Standing on the bar was the Brown Wolf with a Grenade in both of his hands. His thumbs he caressing the top of the pins seductively. While the Yellow Jackal stood guard at the other end of the bar a _Benelli Nova _shotgun in his hands. He had already used it twice on two assailants who had tried to attack them. One of them lay on the floor blood pouring from his kneecap. His girlfriend was hovering over him. The other one, was hunched over in a fetal position clutching his fat gut as blood seeped out between his fingers.

The Red Fox paced back and forth at the head of the pool table where Mickey O'Malley was groaning in pain.

"…Now we are not so bad. We don't want to take over your gang," The Red Fox said in low and a measured voice, "We just want you to stop selling your filthy crack cocaine and marijuana and sell our much healthier—not to mention more profitable drug."

"Screw you," Mickey O'Malley spat through the bottle of whiskey he had consumed.

The Red Fox merely nodded to his companions. Almost with fiendish glee the Green Viper and Black Crow pulled on both of ends of the wire. Slowly but surely the wire began to cut into O'Malley's naked flesh, and he slowly began to bleed out. At first O'Malley bit down hard, grinding his teeth together to stifle his screams. The Red Fox nodded again and they pulled harder and this time O'Malley let out an ear piercing scream.

"You see that—," The Red Fox pointing a gloved hand down at the bleeding Mickey O'Malley, "That is the most excruciating form of pain that there is. The wires are actually biting into his bone. And this and worse will happen to every single one of you, if you deal any drug other than the ones we provide in the Bluffs. Consider yourself warned."

The Red Fox nodded to the Brown Wolfe who outstretched his arms and flipped both of the grenades high into the air. The crowd of people screamed and everyone scrambled to dive underneath the tables and pool tables, bracing themselves for the explosions of the grenades. But the only sound heard was metal hitting concrete.

The grenades were duds. Brown Wolf, Green Viper and Black Crow laughed hysterically.

"Looks as if you boys really do have the luck of the Irish going for you tonight," The Red Fox said, "That was just a warning. If we have to come back again, we bring the real ones."

And with that they were gone.

Five minutes later in an alleyway just outside the border of the Bluffs. Stood the five members of the Desert Wind.

"Do you think they bought it?" asked the Red Fox.

"Doesn't matter," said The Brown Wolf extracting a thick cigar from his pouch, "If they didn't we'll come back and show them another example."

"Yes," said the Yellow Jackal, "But there's no point in subduing all the gangs and organizations in Gotham if we have nothing to show for it."

"When's this damn party with Wayne Enterprises?" Black Crow asked the Red Fox.

"Tomorrow night," said the Red Fox, "From then I guess we start to meet with some of their execs."

"Well the sooner the better," said the Green Viper, "One of the Columbians said that his clients is desperate."

"Well after tomorrow they'll have all the stuff that they want," said the Red Fox, "At a profit."

* * *

Sunday afternoon, Bruce walked into his solarium and found Helena sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, wearing nothing but a terry clothed bathrobe and slippers. She was heavily engrossed in the news section of the Sunday Gotham Times. It had been an eventful weekend for both of them. After they had woken up on Saturday morning and participated in a strenuous workout in his gym. They ate breakfast, then spent the rest of the day down in the cave, where he had shown her around in more detail. After that he had taken her to a small country inn for dinner about 30 miles outside of Gotham City proper. It was known for it's privacy and being off the 'tourist' beaten track. They had spent the night, had breakfast and returned mid morning to the manor. Sparred in the gym and spent some time in his sauna before retiring to the solarium. Alfred had laid out a small lunch and the paper which Helena had promptly gone for. She was as much a news junkie as he was. It was nice to have someone to discuss world events with…especially in terms of female companionship. Most of his ex-girlfriends (if you wanted to call them that) were only interested in superficial things. Which was why they were his exes and did not last very long. Bruce had retired to his study to make a few phone calls. It had been a perfect weekend. 

Well almost perfect.

That morning Bruce at the Inn, while Bruce had gone to fetch the car, he had left Helena up in the hotel room to finish dressing. When he ran into Rita Zimbalist the editor of the entertainment section for the Gotham Post the cities tabloid newspaper. She was also the biggest gossip in the city and could be seen at every celebrity event. She was constantly trying to pry into Bruce's romantic affairs, trying to discern whom he was dating or sleeping with. Bruce made sure to give her enough fodder to keep her from actually prying too deeply and finding out the real truth. Right now the official word, which he had planted was that he was single or had an open relationship with Cynthia Kincaid the Hollywood actress and Heather Knowles the model. Neither of which was truth. But if Zimbalist were to see him with Helena….

Bruce hoped that the older woman wouldn't notice him. But it was too late. He was right out in the open, and she was yelling instructions about parking the car at a flustered man whom Bruce knew to be her husband. She turned around and seeing him, squinted, not quite sure as if whether her eyes were deceiving her or not. Seeing that they were not, and this was indeed _the_ Bruce Wayne. She flung out her arms and yelled,

"Brucie! Bruce Wayne!"

Bruce groaned inwardly but turned on the patented Bruce Wayne grin.

"Rita!" he said loudly. He hoped Helena would hear and would stay in the hotel room, "What a surprise!"

"Isn't it though?" she asked excited, "I didn't expect to see you here."

"The same with me," Bruce replied.

"Is this work or play?" she asked curiously.

"Oh you know me," Bruce said, "Just rest and relaxation."

"Alone?" She asked cheekily.

"Afraid so," Bruce said, "My lap top is the car. I just came up here to get away from it all and imbibe the fresh country air. I'm going home right now."

"Right now?" she asked disappointed.

"Yes right now. This was just a small break," Bruce said pleasantly. God he just wished her husband would show up so that he wouldn't have to endure the prying…

Then came the reason he liked to use the inn the first place. George Bell, the proprietor of the Inn came out of the building holding a duffle bag.

"Here's your bag Mr. Wayne," he said smiling.

The bag didn't belong to Bruce but he took it.

"Thank you George."

"Your shirts still drying. I'll have Catherine deliver it to you later."

"Thank you so much George. I appreciate it. That shirt has sentimental value to me." Bruce turned to the puzzled Rita Zimbalist and said, "I spilled some wine on my shirt last night at dinner. It's one of my favourites. I've had it since my student days at Cambridge, when I rowed for the university."

"Oh I see," Zimbalist said.

"Well that about covers it," Bruce said cheerfully, "I'll be on my way."

"Oh Brucie!" Zimbalist said flapping her hands with excitement.

"Yes?" Bruce asked.

"Tuesday nights gala," Zimbalist asked.

"What about it?"

"Who are you bringing?"

"Someone very special," he said.

"Can you tell me who?"

"No, Rita," Bruce said, "You'll just have to wait and see."

With that Bruce jumped in his McLaren and drove off.

About a mile down the country rode he found a small pick up truck. He pulled over and found Catherine Bell the proprietor's daughter. Beside her stood Helena Bertinelli.

"Thank you Catherine," Bruce said, he discreetly slipped her a 100 dollar bill along with the duffle bag, "Give this to your Dad. And thank him for his help."

"Will do Mr. Wayne," she replied getting back inside truck and pulling away.

Bruce looked at Helena.

"That was close," he said studying her.

"Yeah it was," she replied. They got back in his car and went back to Wayne Manor.

However the entire incident had stuck with him since, and it had forced him to make decision which he did not want to.

He walked over to her and kissed her on the head.

"Hey," she said softly looking up at him, he kissed her on the lips. They tasted of jam. He went back and kissed her again. Making the kiss deeper.

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

"No right here's just fine," he said his lips moving down to her neck.

"Bruce..Alfred.."

"He knows how to make himself scarce. Trust me," he pulled back taking a seat on the couch beside her, leaning in he started to work on her robe.

"Bruce come on…," she giggled pushing him away, "We were up all night,"

"I can't help it," he said, "I want to be with you all the time."

"You?" she scoffed, "Mr. Loner?"

"I don't mind company," he said pulling away and sitting up, "When it's good as this. Will you stay the night?"

"No I can't," she said refastening her robe, "I was here all weekend. And haven't even opened my lap top to write my tests."

"You can do that here tonight."

"Uh-uh,," she said, "No. Not with you here to distract me. Drive me back in to town after dinner."

He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers as she tried to go back to reading. But feeling his stare looked up at him.

"What is it?" she asked taking his fingers in her hand.

"Are you okay with today?" he asked seriously.

"What? You mean the gossip columnist?" she asked putting down the paper and looking at him.

"Yes that, The publicity. You hate it."

"I can do without it, but I realize that it can't be helped. It part of the price of being with you."

"Yes it is. It's part of the game that I need to play. To keep my company afloat and in good standing….what I need to know is…can you play it."

"Do I have to?"

"No," he said firmly, "I don't want you to be part of anything that you don't have to be."

Helena looked at him carefully realizing that there was something further going on, "What's going on Bruce?"

"Things are really going well for me at Wayne Enterprises," he said.

"I know," she said, "I read about it in the paper. Your merging or getting involved with a pharmaceutical company."

"Yes that's right," he responded, "There's a gala to celebrate the merger.

"And?"

"Media outlets from all over the world will be there. In fact I've invited them. Not just business media but celebrity media as well."

Helena looked at him expectantly.

"It's expected that…given my reputation…I'll need to be seen with a woman."

"I see…"

"I wanted to ask you Helena…. But given everything that's happened, especially today. I don't think.."

"When is this taking place?" she asked cutting him off.

"Tuesday night," he replied.

"Oh well. I couldn't go anyway," she said, "I'm teaching at the Columbus Center."

"Can't you cancel?" Bruce asked, "Or get someone else to take your place?" he asked slightly annoyed. Helena picked up his tone and was on edge.

"No Bruce," she replied folding the paper and placing it down on the table, "I can't. We're doing mock interviews. This is the only time the women get to practice with me. They need to do this if they are going to make good impressions with employers."

"When does your class finish?"

"Around eight, eight thirty," she said.

"Then you should still be able to make it," he said kissing her.

"For?"

"For the party. I want you to be there Helena. Even if it's only for five minutes."

"I'll do my best," she said bending to kiss him, "I'm going to change."

* * *

**The Favour**

Dick Grayson raced his 1971 lime green Barracuda through the main gates of Wayne Manor.

He loved the car, even though Barbara Gordon thought it resembled a tank. He loved the way it ran and the sound it made—it was pure power. Dick owned five muscle cars. Four of them were vintage models and which he kept stored in a garage not too far from where he lived. The vintage ones he drove in the summer. In the winter he drove the newer model Dodge Charger or his newly refurbished Kawasaki Ninja bike. But as soon as the snows had cleared and he thought that the rains had washed away enough of the salt, Dick would bring out his vintage cars out of storage and drive them around.

Today, being his day off, Dick had driven in to Gotham to spend some quality time with Barbara. He planned on taking her out to lunch, then catching a matinee at the local multiplex to see some art film she was keen on seeing. However first he had another more unpleasant chore to take care. Namely seeing Bruce Wayne. Dick had been just about to leave his apartment when his phone went off. It was Bruce Wayne asking him to drop by the house as soon as possible.

The last thing that Dick wanted to do was see Bruce, especially after the dressing down he had been given some weeks ago. In fact Dick was tempted to blow him off. But there was something that…stopped him from doing so. No matter how he tried, he could not stop the sense of obligation he felt towards this man for what he had done for him. He owed so much to Bruce Wayne. Even if the older man could be a first class son of a bitch at times.

The other day while out on patrol as a cop with the Bludhaven Police Department, He had caught a trio of teenage boys who had been breaking into a shop and brought them into the station. While booking them he noticed that one of the kids had an ugly purple bruise on his neck.

Dick had told the boy to lift up his shirt and gasped in horror when he saw that the boys entire torso was filled scars, and similar ugly bruises. The boy was silent at first but Dick had found out that the boy was being beaten on a regular basis by his step father with a metal pipe.

Dick had shuddered to look at him, and wondered what would have happened to him if Bruce Wayne had not taken him in. Dick had jumped in his squad car and brought the man in. But had been told to let the man go because Dick had not gotten the proper paperwork. It still pissed him off, and he had payed the man a visit the next night—as his alter ego Nightwing and given the man a sound thrashing with his escrima sticks, and warned him that if he ever touched the boy again he would get some more.

Still Dick could not help the great sense of resentment that overtook him at being ordered to the mansion like some servant. Dick knew that 'people skills' were not among Bruce's qualities. Yet he still thought that time would have taught Bruce something. But no, he still often acted like an entitled and coddled aristocrat. And Dick was nothing but a servant. It was probably why Dick rarely returned to Wayne Manor. And when he did it was not to this part of the Manor. It was normally straight to the cave.

Though he had spent his formative teenage years living in this home. Dick never truly never felt as if Wayne Manor were his home. It was too cold and austere and smelled and reeked of privilege and wealth. Wayne Manor and had been the home of the Wayne family for as long as anyone could remember. And Dick wasn't a Wayne. Even though Bruce had finally adopted him years ago. Dick still felt as if he were an interloper in this rich aristocratic milieu. He was a working class boy at heart. Despite the grittiness that belied the industrial city of Bludhaven where he lived and worked as a city cop. And acted as a protector Nightwing. Bludhaven was his home. Still it bugged him big time to be 'summoned' to the manner like some lackey. It was fine when he was a minor and Robin but it didn't cut it anymore.

Dick turned the door knob and pushed the doors open. It opened without resistance as he knew it would, just the same way that the huge gates of Wayne Manor opened easily to his car. He was expected. Alfred welcomed him and instructed him that Bruce was in his study waiting for him. He found Bruce standing before his huge fireplace practicing his chip shot.

"Hello Dick," Bruce said looking at him and smiling. Dick found himself caught somewhat off guard. It was quite opposite from the reaction that he had received two weeks ago when he had enquired into his new romance with Helena.

"Hey," Dick said frostily he watched as Bruce hit the ball and it went sliding into the cup. Bruce looked at it and smiled. Dick hated golf and couldn't understand why anyone would want to spend all day walking over greens chasing a ball. Now ice hockey that was a different story.

Dick had joined the local house league with some of the guys at his station house. They regularly played guys from other stations, and it all culminated in a play off game where he winning team would end up playing the winning team from the fire department.

"So what's going on?" Dick asked lowering himself into a plush leather chair which sat before the huge oak desk. He knew that it had been in the Wayne family for over four hundred years. Solomon Wayne had brought it over with him when he left Scotland.

"I need a favour," Bruce said leaning the nine iron against the fire place and walking over to his chair.

"What kind of favour?" Dick asked, "You going away on another trip and need me to look after _your_ city."

"No. Nothing like that at all. I'm sure you've heard about the partnership with Apotix Pharmaceuticals."

"Vaguely. Babs mentioned it."

"Well we're having a party to make the announcement at the Cosmopolitan room. It will be a big media event. The works."

"And?" Dick asked.

"And I want you to be there."

"You want me to be there?" Dick asked slightly startled he hated fancy parties, "Why?"

"Because you are my adopted son."

"Come on Bruce that's only a formality," Dick said. He had always chaffed at the thought of Bruce being his 'Dad', he thought that it was disloyal to John Grayson his real father who had been killed when he was 13 years old. Not that he had ever felt ungrateful for what Bruce had done. It's just that… And when it came down to it Bruce Wayne was probably the worst idea for a father anyone could ever have. With the parade of women that he had had through his life, and that was just for starters. Dick had a certain idea in his head of what a father could be. And his real Dad John Grayson fit that description much more than Bruce Wayne. He had always thought of Bruce more along the lines of an errant older brother.

"Whatever you want to call it," Bruce said somewhat dismissively, "You're officially considered to be part of the family. And it'll look funny if you're not there."

"Can I bring a date?"

"Of course. But I've already made sure to send an invitation to Barbara."

"When does this take place?"

"Tuesday night."

"And are you bringing anyone along?"

"Selina Kyle."

"Selina?"

"Yes."

"What happened to Helena?"

"Nothing. She just has something else going on that night. And she doesn't like publicity."

"Oh," Dick said he paused for a moment, "Bruce if Helena doesn't like publicity then how are you going to date her, with the press following your every move as Bruce Wayne?"

"I've dated other women on the side before without the press interfering."

"If you want to call it dating," Dick murmured.

But Bruce had heard him.

"What?"

Normally Dick would let it slide, but he was still chaffing after the rebuke he had received from Bruce last week and watching that step-father get a slap on the wrist for beating his son.

"The women you've dated Bruce. Let's face it were mostly bed mates. Nothing serious."

"And how the hell would you know that?"

"Come on Bruce I'm not dumb. The way you'd disappear after we came back from patrol when I was a kid, and show up when I was ready to leave for school in the morning. Alfred tried to shield me. But you weren't exactly discreet. I hope that's not what Helena's turned into."

"Are you still stuck on her?"

"No of course not. I never was."

"Then what's this about?"

"I'm not that fond of her. But she is a decent person, and obviously she's stuck on you. Always has been. And I would really hate to see her turn into one of your latest conquests."

"Though this is none of your damned business. For your information this isn't a fling. I'm very serious about Helena."

"Well that's good to hear," Dick said rising to his feet, "Because if you mess her over emotionally then you had better watch your back."

"Are you coming to the gala?" Bruce called after him.

"Yeah I'll be there," Dick said and left.


	21. Chapter 21

**The Gala**

"You know anything about these people? Selina Kyle asked Bruce Wayne as she leaned forwards to adjust the strap of her Jimmy Choo's. They were both sitting in the back of a limousine. On their way to the gala to announce the merger between Wayne Enterprises and Apotix Pharmaceuticals in the manufacture of low cost medicines.

"Yes," Bruce said, "Calev Beger is the CEO of Apotix Pharmaceuticals. The largest manufacturer of low cost generic drugs in the world. They've been really instrumental in providing low cost drugs to developing countries that can ill afford it. They're originally from Israel."

"Hmm..what are they doing in Gotham City?" Selina asked straightening up.

"Things in Israel are too hot and interfering with business. So they've relocated their operations to Gotham."

"Talk about out of the fire and into the frying pan," Selina said.

"As dangerous as Gotham can be. It's in no way as bad as what's happening in Israel."

"Thanks to you," Selina said pointedly.

Bruce gave her a small smile, "Thanks to a lot of people."

Selina turned on her side one leg crooked up on the seat giving Bruce a good look at her shapely legs. He knew she worked out fanatically at least 6 days a week and watched her diet like a hawk. She had one of the most beautiful bodies he had ever seen. And he had seen a lot of women in shape.

She regarded him carefully.

"But you were the catalyst. You inspired a great deal of people. Including me."

Bruce shrugged his broad shoulders non commit tally. He wasn't good at accepting compliments.

"And including Huntress."

He looked at her sharply.

"Hit a nerve?" she asked smiling, "Make you think of someone special?"

"If you have something to say Selina just spit it out."

"Okay then I will," she drawled, "I hear that you're seeing Huntress. Is it true?"

"Yes I am," Bruce said nodding.

"I can't believe it," Selina said, "After all these years. What instigated this?"

"Things….I'm not sure. I guess that after my near death experience. There were some relationships. I wanted to make right."

"And Huntress is one of those relationships?"

"Yes she is."

"That poor girl, I tried to warn her that you aren't all that you're cracked up to be. But she wouldn't listen."

"You're too young to be bitter Selina."

"Don't flatter yourself Bruce. You are a danger to the fair sex."

"You know people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"The men I've been involved with know exactly what they were in for."

"Oh you mean like Cal Beecham?"

Cal Beecham was the CEO of Beecham Petrochemicals. Who was now in the process of divorcing his fourth wife, ostensibly after his wife had caught him in bed with Selina.

"I told Cal that we should meet at a hotel. He was the one who insisted that we meet at his Penthouse when his wife was out shopping."

"Is that so?" Bruce asked incredulously.

"Yes that's so," Selina said flatly. She had never given a damn what anyone thought of her before, she didn't see why she should now, "You know. I could have said that I've seen this happening for years,"

"You have?"

"Yes. I mean it's obvious that she has a huge crush on you. Sort of like a groupie for a rock star."

"Oh? Is that how you categorize it?"

"Yeah it is. I just had no idea that it went both ways. But it sort of explains why you've pushed her away so much."

"That you won't be happening anymore."

"So Bruce. If you're so sweet on her. Then why aren't you bringing her to this party?"

"She's not too keen on the publicity and attention."

"And you think that I am?" Selina asked surprised.

"Yes you love the attention. Especially amongst the high rollers."

"Well only from the husbands anyway," Selina said.

Bruce looked at her with slight annoyance. Selina laughed and reached over and touched his arm, "Don't worry Bruce I'll behave."

"You could have said no," he said.

"No way I love a good party. Besides I haven't seen Cal since that afternoon," She sighed whimsically, "I've really missed him."

Bruce tilted his head back against the seat.

"I know you only do this to annoy me."

"Baby, I know of many other ways to annoy you. More effective ways. But back to Huntress. I've worked with her from time to time. She's a good kid. She plays tough but I can see she has a good heart," Selina leaned over towards Bruce and in a voice that brooked no argument whispered, "And I would hate to see it broken."

"Why is that?" Bruce asked his sapphire eyes flashing, "Do you want her for yourself?"

He was well aware of Selina's bi-sexual tendencies. He had even participated in a 'threesome' with her and another woman at one time. A model whom she had seduced at a party.

"No. She just reminds me of myself when I was younger. And I would hate to see her get hurt. Especially by a man like you."

"A man like me?"

"You know what I mean Bruce."

"Anyway, as it stands she had another commitment to look after. I sent her an invitation, she said….no she's promised…that she would come afterwards."

Selina looked at him and smiled.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"My God…"Selina said, "You really are stuck on her aren't you?"

"Yes. I like her," Bruce said quietly.

"Will wonders never cease?" Selina asked laughing.

The limousine crawled to a stop and the door was opened by a young man wearing a valet uniform. Bruce exited the limo and extended his hand to Selina. She took it and climbed out of the limousine. Bruce noticed how the valet stared at her legs. Outside there was a crowd of people including a throng of about 20 members of the media. There was almost an audible gasp when they saw Selina Kyle emerge from the limo. Selina merely smiled, like a contented cat and took Bruce's arm. They made their way towards the door.

At once the questions started.

"Mr. Wayne what do you think that this merger will mean?"

"Great things for people who can't afford more costly medicines," Bruce replied.

"Bruce are you and Selina dating?"

"I'm just chaperoning him guys," Selina said smoothly, "Trying to protect Mr. Wayne's virtue."

That elicited chuckles from the men.

Just then two security guards arrived and escorted the two into the hotel proper. There was already a large crowd in the lobby.

"Thank you Selina," Bruce said.

"Just keeping you safe for Huntress. Half the women in here want to jump you," she said giving the room a shrewd and careful sweep of her blue green eyes. "You know it seems as if Gotham's wealthiest and richest are here tonight. This would be the opportune time for Catwoman to pay a visit to their homes."

Bruce looked at her his sapphire eyes darkening somewhat.

"Behave yourself Selina," he said.

"Or what?" she teased, "Are you going to spank me?"

"I just might," he responded.

She laughed.

"Promises, promises….Speaking of which…have you and your new honey added that component to your romance. I'm sure that given your history you've always wanted to."

Bruce looked at her perplexed and pointed off to the far side of the room.

"You know I think I see Ted Markham standing over there looking lonely."

Ted Markham was the CEO of Markham Trucking the largest Trucking fleet in the nation. He was known being lucky in business but being unlucky in love. It could be due to his short frog like appearance.

"Hmmm," Selina said placing a thoughtful index finger over her chin.

"Could it be. Maybe he's looking for a new girlfriend after his wife left him for that male model."

"Could be," said Bruce, "Why don't you and go comfort him."

"I think I will," Selina said drifting off.

Natalie Sheldon walked over to him.

"Everyone here?" Bruce asked her in a low voice.

"Yes the Israeli's have arrived just a short time ago," Sheldon said, "Wasn't that Selina Kyle?"

"Yes," Bruce said turning to face her, he could hear the distaste in her voice.

"I didn't know that she was a school teacher."

"She isn't. My date couldn't make it," Bruce explained smiling but there was an edge to his voice that said he did not want to get into it further. Especially here.

"Oh Okay," Sheldon said understanding.

"Good," Bruce said, "Selina's been kind enough to stand in for me on a short notice. Anyone asks, that's the official word. Make sure that everyone who needs to know knows."

"I understand," said Sheldon.

"Good," Bruce said giving her his thousand watt smile, "Now let's go and make a deal."

* * *

The valet watched in horror as the cherry red Transam drove up to the front door. All evening he had parked some of the most classic and exotic cars known to man. And here was this huge muscle car taking up space with its' loud obnoxious motor running. It was probably one of the waiters he thought huffily. He walked over to the drivers side shaking his head in annoyance. 

"The back buddy," he said with a jerk of his thumb, "The help is supposed to park around the back."

Dick Grayson climbed out of the car in his rented tuxedo.

"I'm not the help," he replied with a smile that did not touch his eyes. He flashed the valet his invitation.

"Oh..I'm so sorry," the valet stammered.

Dick threw the valet his car keys.

"Be careful with her," Dick said, "If she's scratched. I'm

holding you responsible."

And he made his way inside the hotel to find the lights dimmed and the presentation well underway. Bruce was up on stage with a number of people. One of who was introduced as being Calev Berger the CEO of Apotix. The presentation lasted about half an hour, before the lights went up and everyone was invited to enjoy the refreshments. Part of the hotel room had been blocked off for dancing.

Dick milled about for a few minutes. He did not recognize anyone there, except for Selina Kyle whom he spotted having an animated conversation with an older man. He watched her for a while smiling, thinking about his teenage years. Fifteen years old and about to….

"You know," came a voice behind him, Dick turned and found Tim Drake wearing a tuxedo and looking very GQ, "I just don't get how every high roller in this city drools over that woman."

"Tim my boy," Dick said with a condescending pat on the shoulder, "When you get older you will."

"Yeah whatever," Tim said shrugging off his hand, "I really can't believe that Bruce decided to bring her along."

"Why?" Dick asked.

"You mean apart from the obvious fact that she's a skank?"

"Watch your mouth Tim," Dick warned.

"Sorry, " Tim said contritely, "But you do have to admit that she has a reputation."

"Many people do Tim. Both good and bad," Dick said reaching out to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, "Things are often more complex than they look."

"Whatever, " Tim said shrugging, "You know I thought that considering everything, Bruce would have brought Helena."

"She has other priorities," Dick said, "She teaches on Tuesday night. She couldn't be Bruce's date. She might show up though."

"I hope she does," Tim said with more enthusiasm than he meant to.

Dick looked at Tim and chuckled.

"My God you do have it bad."

"No," Tim said, "I just like her. I think she's great. Smart and gorgeous. Great combo."

"Yeah she's okay," Dick said, "If you like High maintenance."

"They're the best kind!" Tim exclaimed, "Never boring!"

"God you and Bruce sure like the strangest women."

"What happened to Barb?"

"A case she was working on broke an hour before I was scheduled to pick her up."

"That's too bad," Tim said

"I didn't expect to see you here," Dick said changing the subject.

"Oh we all got invites. Besides we own stock in Wayne Enterprises. Really want to see how this goes down. Keep an eye on my money if you know what I mean."

"Actually I don't, the corporate shenanigans is you up to you."

"Is that why you never went to work for Bruce?"

"Partly," Dick said, "Nice turn out."

"Yeah," Tim said, "Speaking of which..she's here."

Dick turned and looked in Tim's direction and saw Helena talking to Ofir Berger.

"Hmm looks like she's found an admirer."

"Yeah an unwanted one," Dick said noticing the look of dissatisfaction on Helena's face, "I'll go and save her."

* * *

A complimentary bar was set up for the media and the press off to the side and near the back. And this was where Ofir Berger stood, diligently working on a glass of scotch. He had been at the bar ever since the 'Prince of Gotham City' had showed up with his entourage. Not being able to stand another scene of people kissing Wayne's ass. He left and went off in search of the bar and that's where he remained throughout the presentation. As was expected it was Rifkin who did the officiating. Heaping sufficient praise on both Wayne and his father. Emphasising how this merger would be a great benefit to Gotham City as well as the people who could not afford it. 

It made Ofir sick to his stomach. The only thing that cheered him up was the thought that they would soon really be able to get down to business and start distribution of Nocturna on the streets. Itai Levy had already met with the head of procurement for Wayne Enterprises and was scheduled to have a meeting with her tomorrow afternoon.

Ofir eavesdropped on conversations from various members of the press. Some of them commented on how well Bruce was doing managing his company since the Lucious Fox unfortunate convalescence. Others remarked that it was so nice to see a major company like Wayne Enterprises concerned about the plight of others in the third world. Still others remained cynical and remarked that this was nothing but a publicity stunt for Wayne. Ofir smiled at that.

He was about to start on his third Scotch, relieved that the damn presentation was almost over so that he could leave, when he spotted Helena enter the room.

He at once straightened up. What the hell was she doing here he thought? She was wearing a beautiful blue strapless dress, which did wonders in showing off her toned shoulders. He loved the way she moved, like a beautiful woman who had no clue how beautiful she was. Or more to the point like a beautiful woman who got over the fact that she was beatiful a long time ago and didn't need to flaunt it.

Something which suited Ofir just fine because he hated conceited women. Like that Kyle woman whom he had met at the gym and who was now making the rounds in an obscene purple backless dress that plunged so far down that you could almost see the crack of her ass. This was the first time that he had seen Helena like this and he thought that she looked wonderful, almost better than….He shook his head to clear the image. He watched her closely she looked uncertain and un-sure as if didn't know what to do and as if she felt out of place. So she hugged the back wall, but soon her attention went to Wayne who had drifted out onto the convention room floor, and was instantaneously swarmed with well wishers. Most of them women. Ofir walked over to her.

"He'll never notice you," Ofir said.

Startled Helena turned to face him.

"Hell! I can't believe this!" she said annoyed, "Can I ever get rid of you?

"I'm like…how do you say in America. The original bad penny?"

"I'd use another term," Helena said, "And it isn't a penny. More like a pain in the ass. Can't you get it through your head that I'm not interested?"

"You haven't even gone out with me."

"And I don't want to. Okay. I am not interested. Not now or never will be."

"Do you know that most men at the gym think that you're frigid?"

"Most of them are right," Helena said flatly. But to her surprise Ofir laughed.

"Something tells me otherwise," Ofir said, "Really I didn't expect to see you here of all places."

"And where did you expect to see me?" she asked curiously.

"I-I don't know. Club maybe."

Helena shook her head in disgust.

"I look like party girl to you?" she asked.

"No it's just that…" Ofir said trying to make up for his faux pas.

"It's just that what?" Helena asked.

"It's just that you don't strike me as being the kind of person who would be seen hanging around at a corporate event."

"You don't even know me."

"But I would like to,"

"That won't be happening," she said walking away from him.

"Trust me I'll treat you better than Wayne ever will," he blurted out.

"And you know this how?" Helena asked amused stopping and turning to face him.

"Look at him," Ofir said, "The many women who hang around him, "I bet that he only sees them as disposable pleasures to be discarded at will. I can't find one thing on him that says that he's had a long term relationship that's lasted more than a month."

"Maybe he hasn't met the right woman yet," Helena said thoughtfully.

"I don't see how that can be the case," Ofir said sipping his Scotch, "He's sorounded by them all the time."

"Right," Helena said glancing back at Bruce and the women who sorounded him, "But at the same time this doesn't really provide an opportunity to meet someone special."

"What do you mean," Ofir protested, "Look at him—," Ofir began gestured to Wayne with his chin.

"Do you honestly think that any of those women are genuinely interested in him? I mean to say he's a celebrity so naturally there would be that kind of attraction. But it isn't exactly sincere. It's all surface. I'm sure that if he wasn't loaded many of them wouldn't care about him"

"Why are you defending him?"

"Because I think that maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt," Helena said.

"If you don't mind me asking," Ofir barely concealing his annoyance that this woman he had been attracted to was smitten by that vain dandy Wayne.

"What exactly is your connection to this event?"

Before Helena could respond she heard someone call her name. She turned and saw Dick Grayson walking towards them.

"Hey Helena!" Dick said walking up to Ofir and Helena.

"Dick!" Helena exclaimed with obvious relief.

"Glad you could make it," he said, Dick glanced at Ofir Berger, "Am I interrupting something."

"No-oh no!" she said grabbing Dick by the arm, "Not at all. We're finished."

Dick looked from both Helena to Ofir again and nodded. They both walked off leaving Ofir Berger starring after them.

"Thanks for that rescue," Helena said.

"No problem," Dick said, "You know him?"

"No. Not really. He's just some creep from my gym who wont stop hitting on me."

"Oh..You want me to talk him?" Dick asked his tone becoming more serious.

"No it's nothing serious. He's more of a pest than anything else."

"Do you know who he is?"

"No. And I really don't want to ,"

"His name is Ofir Berger. He's Calev Berger's son."

Helena looked at Dick perplexed.

"Calev Berger. The CEO of Apotix pharmaceuticals," Dick explained

Helena paused then her mouth fell open in horror.

"Oh…oh my goodness!"

"Hey chill," Dick said grinning, "I don't think that the deal is going to fall apart because you told Bergers son to take a hike. Besides, they already did the signing about half an hour ago."

"I'm sorry I missed that."

"No you didn't miss much. Just corporate glad handing. Here's Bruce."

They found Bruce Wayne surrounded by a group of people, mostly women.

"Bruce," the younger man said.

"Hello Dick," Bruce said pleasantly, "So glad that you could make it."

"Never miss the opportunity to attend a party," Dick said, "I want to introduce you to Helena Bertinelli. She's an old friend of mine."

Bruce turned to Helena and gave her his patented playboy smile mostly for the benefit of those standing around. The way that some of the women reminded Helena of the kind of looks that the 'it' girls back in high school used to give her. It made her feel self-conscious.

"Pleased to meet you Helena," Bruce said taking her hand in his. He paused for dramatic effect, "But haven't we met already?"

"Yes. Some weeks ago at the Hagenberg gallery," Helena said.

"That's right," Bruce said smiling, "I hope that one day you'll agree to show me Italy."

"Maybe," Helena laughed.

"I had no idea that you were attached to Dick," Bruce said, "Dick why didn't you tell me that you were acquainted with such a fantastic woman?"

"Cause I want her to remain fantastic," Dick said playing along.

Two men came up to Bruce and introduced themselves as being German Bankers.

"If you'll excuse me," Bruce said to both Dick and Helena, "Helena I hope to be able to speak with you again later."

Dick and Helena stepped away from Bruce and his admiring entourage.

"Well," Helena said, "I think I got out of that in one piece."

"Yeah we both did," Dick said suppressing a yawn, "Especially considering it's way past my bedtime."

"Your bedtime?" Helena asked, "It's only ten o'clock."

"Yes but I have to get up at 5:30 to be at work for 7."

"You work?"

"Yes Helena I work. I'm a cop with the Bludhaven PD."

"Oh.."

"Oh what? You thought I sat on my butt and lived off of Bruce's money?"

"I guess…I was wrong," Helena said blushing

"Yeah you are. I don't believing in loafing about."

"Say do you mind dropping me off at my place? I'm not big on parties. And I don't think that Bruce needs me."

"No problem," Dick said.

"Dick! Dick Grayson!"

Dick and Helena turned around and found two attractive young women in their mid twenties standing just a few feet away from them. Both of them were dressed to the nines.

"Remember us?" the first one asked.

"Uh no…" Dick said embarrassed.

"Jessica and Darla? We were in your freshman class at Hudson U."

"Oh..oh yeah," Dick stammered. During his first and only semester at Hudson U. All Dick majored in was drinking and chasing girls. He had actually flunked out of University. He wondered which one of these women had slept with. Was it one of them, or both?

"It's been ages since we last saw you," Darla said grabbing Dick by his arm and shoving Helena out of the way.

"Yeah," said Jessica grabbing Dick by his other arm, "It's been ages. Why don't you tell us what you've been up to..."

They dragged Dick away leaving a bemused Helena staring after them. Realising that she would be without a ride home. She drifted off in search of the ladies room, and found it completely empty. She walked up to the mirror, and inspected her appearance in the mirror and winced.

She had put herself together in a hurry and it looked like it. She had not planned on attending this event. But after she found the stretch limo parked out front of the Columbus Center and seeing Alfred Pennyworth waiting for her she knew that she had no choice. He drove her home and she rushed up to her loft where she took a quick shower and changed into one of the few party dresses that she owned—a strapless blue satin gown by Nicole Miller. She went back down stairs and whisked off to the Garrison hotel, To find the party well underway, and feeling out of place as she usually did in large events like that.

She looked up when she heard the bathroom door opened. It was Bruce Wayne.

"Is it empty?" he asked.

"Yes," Helena said without turning around.

He walked into the washroom and stood directly behind her pressing his face into her hair.

"Why do I have a feeling that you know your way around the ladies?"

Bruce merely smiled slid his arms around her waist. Helena relaxed and leaned back into him.

"I'm glad that you made it," he said.

"Well with the limo outside of the Columbus center it pretty much made it impossible for me to say no."

"That was the intention," he said, "This is very important to me. And I want you to be in on that aspect of my life," He kissed her neck, "My God you look beautiful."

"We're quite the sight aren't we?" she asked

"Yes we are," he replied raising his head to look at their reflection in the mirror, "You should have been my date," he said into her hair…she smelled delicious like Jasmine.

"Don't start that again," she said turning in his arms to face him.

"Hmm…," he said kissing her, "I want to celebrate this with you tonight."

"How."

"You know how," he said, "As partners. As the real you and me."

"The real you and me," she said, "Sometimes I don't know who the real me is."

"Yes you do," he said turning her around to face him.

"You're Helena Bertinelli. When you're with me."

"And you're this is the real you?" she asked, "The real Bruce Wayne? The man I saw flirting with the crowd. The tough son of a bitch I see out there or this?"

"Which one do you think?" he asked turning her around to face him.

"I think I'll find that out in time," she said reaching up to kiss him again.

* * *

Selina stood fuming as she watching Cal Beecham trot after his wife like an obedient puppy. God how pathetic she thought. Apparently Beecham and had shown sufficient remorse for his infidelities and his wife had forgiven him so that they were not bound for divorce court after all. Soon after the presentation ened, Selina had found Beecham standing off to the side talking on his cell phone. She had walked over to him and said hello. 

He looked horrified when he saw her shutting the phone with a snap. He told her that they could not talk because his wife was in attendance. He then proceeded to tell her that it was all her 'fault' that he was in trouble with his wife. Selina told him that it was complete nonsense. As it was he who had insisted on meeting in the hotel room and on and on…Eventually the argument got so heated that Mrs. Beecham had arrived wearing enough make up to be considered a fire hazard. She dragged Beecham away but not before giving Selina a parting shot and calling her a 'tramp'. Selina just smiled and looked at the line of _Mikimoto_ pearls around Mrs. Beecham's neck. She would have to get herself a pair. _Exactly_ like it.

"Hello," a voice behind her said.

Selina turned around and saw Calev Berger standing there smiling. She had seen him up on stage during the announcement. He was handsome in a brutish way much like Slam and Ted Grant were. While obviously in his early 60's he carried himself with purpose and showed no sight of paunch. He walked over to her smiling.

"For the record I think that he's a fool," he said to her.

"For the record," Selina said, "You're right."

Calev laughed.

"He'll make the obligatory peace moves with his wife. Get bored then be back to chasing women. But I won't be one of them. He blew his chance," Selina said.

Calev Berger laughed again.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said, "I'm-."

"Calev Berger," Selina finished.

"Yes! I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage.

"I'm Selina," Selina replied, "Selina Kyle."

"I understand that you came with Bruce Wayne."

Selina got the tone of enquiry in his voice.

"We're just old friends," she said, "Nothing more. How are you liking Gotham City?"

"It's different from Israel," he said, "It's so large and modern. Have you been in the city very long?"

"I'm a Gotham girl," Selina said, "I was born and grew up here."

"So you must really love it then."

"I wouldn't put it in those words exactly," Selina said with a slight shrug, "But it is unique. I don't think that there's anywhere in the world that's quite like it."

"How is that?" Berger said stepping closer to her.

"For various reasons. It can be exciting, it can be scary at times. But one thing is, it's never boring. I'm so used to living here that I could never see myself living anywhere else in the world. It's not a glitzy as LA or eccentric as New York or as staid as London but it does have it's charms. I think that you'll like it here."

"I certainly hope so," said Calev, "I would really like it if you could show me around."

"Love to," Selina said smiling.

Berger reached inside his pants pocket and took out a small leather card holder. He opened it and took out a business card and handed it to her.

"How about you call me sometime?"

"I will," Selina said taking the card from him.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Ms Kyle," he said taking her hand and kissing it.

"Likewise Calev," she said smiling.

Selina continued to do the rounds for about an hour. Most of the rich matrons glared at her and rushed to their husbands sides, as if to protect them from Selina's evil seductive wiles. Selina just smiled inwardly. She knew that these women could keep their husbands on a leash and locked up in their homes and that wouldn't still prevent them from hooking up. She had an undeniable effect on the opposite sex, and she had used it to her advantage ever since she was living on the streets and struggling to survive as a prostitute. But Selina had something better to do than reminisce about her forgettable past. She had spotted her.

Huntress.

'So this is what Huntress looks like unmasked,' Selina Kyle thought to herself. Not a bad looking girl, not bad at all.

She was a young woman in her mid 20's with raven black hair that fell down her back. The elegant blue gown that she wore did little to conceal what Selina could tell was a well toned body.

While certainly no raving beauty, like the models that Bruce carted around sometimes. She definitely was attractive. There was an understated elegance about her, almost as if she had stepped out of an old Italian movie. But also an inherent vulnerability. Which Selina had sensed the first time they had worked together while chasing after that sleazebag Braun. She acted with determination in taking him down. It was almost as if it was all personal and she was trying to get back at some injustice against her.

Selina was surprised that Bruce had waited this long. But then again he had always been more disciplined than she was. She had wanted him at first sight. He was so sexy in that Bat costume and it had taken him a very long time to bite. The thing was that after they both had indulged their appetites they had discovered that it wasn't enough. Oh he was a very sexy man and terrific in bed. But he was always so distant. Always pulling away and refusing to let her inside. As if he didn't quite trust her, or her intentions. It was as if he was always looking for more something else to satisfy him. And she Selina Kyle—Catwoman wasn't it. And she wondered if Huntress was what he was looking for.

She thought that it was high time that she reacquainted herself with the younger woman. Right now she was talking to the Hollywood movie star Bill Pruitt whom she towered over by several inches. When the movie star stepped away to answer his cell phone, Selina moved in.

"Hello Sugar," she said.

Helena turned to look at her, her eyebrow arching slightly in surprise.

"Hello….," she began, "Do I know you?"

"Actually yes you do. We worked together once."

"We did?"

"Uh-huh," Selina said stepping closer and in a stage whisper said, "You and I both helped to bring down a very nasty man who broke your heart. I think you remember him as Braun"

Helena stepped back in horror and looked at her.

"Oh my God," she gasped.

"Not quite," Selina grinned, "But I have been compared to a Goddess on occasion."

"You're…Cat," Helena quickly looked around to see if anyone was listening. They weren't, "You're Catwoman?"

"Selina," Selina said extending her hand, "Selina Kyle."

Helena took her hand and shook it.

"Helena Bertinelli."

"Well it's finally nice to meet you Helena. Without disguises."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Helena said still stunned.

"You know I told Bruce we should be frank and honest with each other for a long time. Really. Just take it all off."

Helena became speechless. Selina laughed and squeezed her arm playfully, but stopped when she noticed someone approaching off to the side.

"Speaking of taking it all off…" Selina murmured. Helena turned and found Dick Grayson walking towards them with Tim Drake in tow.

"Hello ladies," Dick said approaching them both.

"Dick Grayson!" Selina exclaimed, "We were just discussing taking it all off and here you appear."

"Yes and it looks like just in time," Dick said, "Hello Selina."

Tim rolled his eyes and shook his head with disgust.

"Something wrong junior?" she asked smiling but her blue/green eyes became a shade of poison.

"Yeah but it would be lost on you." Tim said crossly.

"Okay you two," Dick said stepping between them both, "Not tonight. This is supposed to be a happy occasion."

"That's right Sonny. Listen to your elders," Selina said cattily.

"You look great Helena," Tim said ignoring Selina.

"Thank you Tim," Helena said.

"Helena, I've had just about enough of this shin-dig," Dick said, "I have to catch some sleep before I start my shift in the morning."

"You still a cop?" Selina asked with a great deal of curiosity.

"Yes Selina. I'm still a cop," Dick said.

"Hmm…looks as if I gave up my wicked ways too soon," Selina said cheekily, "I wouldn't mind being arrested by you. Cuff me!"

"Selina you if you ask me, you should still be locked up," Dick said, but his cheeks reddened slightly, "Look Helena do you need a ride or can you get it from someone else?"

They both knew who that someone else Dick was referring to.

"I'll drive her home."

They all turned to see Offir Berger walking over to them. His eyes were shinning brightly.

"Uh- I don't think so," Helena said.

"Oh why not?" Ofir asked.

"And you are?" Tim said stepping up menacingly to Berger who out flanked him by at least a foot.

"You're that kid I met a Mike's gym a few weeks ago?" Selina asked her eyes narrowing as she inspected him.

"Yes I'm that 'kid'," Ofir said. There must have been a two or three year age difference between himself and Selina.

"Helena you can get a drive home with us. My Dad won't mind," Tim said quickly.

"How cute," Selina said sardonically, "Your parents as chaperones?"

Tim glared at her.

"You know I'm not feeling so tired," Dick said gauging Helena's uneasiness, "I can stay another hour."

"No Dick that's okay," Helena said, "I'll go with you."

"Oh come on sugar!" Selina exclaimed, "The night is still young. And we were just getting acquainted."

"Maybe some other time Selina," Helena said.

"I'll drive Helena home."

They all turned to see Bruce Wayne.

"Really Mr. Wayne…Bruce," Helena said, "That's not necessary."

"I insist," Bruce said, "It will give me a chance to get to know you better."

"What a great idea!" Selina said, "I'll go home with Dick. It's his way to Bludhaven anyway. You don't mind do you Dick?"

"No not at all," Dick said.

"How about it Helena?" Bruce asked staring at her.

"That would be nice Bruce," she responded.

"All right then," Bruce said extending his arm to her. Helena took it and walked off with him. Leaving Ofir Berger apoplectic with rage.


	22. Chapter 22

Act II

Destruction

It was simply beautiful, Bruce Wayne thought looking out at the city, his hands buried in the pants pockets of his Brioni suit. Things could not get any better if he had planned it to work out like this.

The city was quiet, or at least was not in any sort of crisis out of the ordinary that would require The Batman's time.

He was now involved with the woman whom he had secretly wanted to be with for years. And he did not just mean sexually. He had grown very attached to Helena Bertinelli, he liked her company and he sensed that she liked being with him as well. This relationship was a well needed breath of fresh air, especially after enduring years of doomed affairs and relationships that seemed to have stopped before they even begun.

And of course things were looking up for his company. The deal between Apotix and Wayne Technology so far was nothing but good news all around. Wayne shares skyrocketed ten dollars higher at the opening bell on the Tokyo stock exchange this morning. He had spent the better of the morning fielding phone calls from various investment houses, fund companies and banks wanting to invest money in Wayne Enterprises.

The media had been replete with news of the deal all morning, right now the TV was tuned to MSNBC. Bruce turned when he heard the announcer mentioned the name Wayne Enterprises.

Two chattering heads, a well groomed man and woman were carrying on an animated conversation.

"That was some gala last night wasn't it Ron?" the woman said but her gaze was fixed on the tv monitor.

"You bet it was Mary," Ron replied, "As expected all the top movers and shakers were there for the big announcement."

"And that wasn't the only thing that was big. Markets reacted better than expected. Wayne Tech Shares were up both on the Hong Kong and Tokyo stock exchanges. As well as in Europe."

"Yes this is certainly a win-win for all involved."

You can say that again, Bruce thought smiling.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called picking up the remote and turning off the tv.

The door opened revealing Lucy Church his secretary.

"Mr. Wayne? I was told that the staff has assembled and is ready for you in the conference room."

"Thank you Lucy," Bruce said. He left his office and went to the conference room across the hall and opened the door. There he found five of his top executives,

Michelle Alvarez, Tom Price, Carlton Carrington, Mary Ryan and Karl Bergl. Sitting up at top right hand was Natalie Sheldon.

"Morning everyone," Bruce said turning on his patented smile and smiling at everyone at the table. They all looked their brightest and neatest. Bruce especially noticed the overeager expression on Carlton Carrinton's face. He must be more than eager to make up for that flub last week Bruce thought. There was a chorus of 'Goodmornings' in return.

"Nice to see everyone here bright eyed and alert," Bruce said looking carefully at each one, "And that you all didn't take full use of the complementary bar."

There was a wave of polite chuckles around the table.

Bruce took a seat at the table.

"Well then," Bruce said, "This meeting will be brief. I just wanted to touch base with everyone and go over what needs to be done. Natalie and I have gone over the roles in this enterprise. And have divided up assignments according to each of your backgrounds and strengths. This isn't just a good deal for the bottom line and the future of Wayne Enterprises. But it's a good deal for the peoples of the developing world. I mean it when I say that I am committed to this. But at the same time I want this to be a success. And we have a great team to make it happen."

Natalie Sheldon passed out folders to all the people at the table, and Bruce continued.

"Karl will handle financing. Tom you will be working with Manufacturing, and Mary you will be handling Operations. Of course Michelle you will be taking care of procurement and Carlton I want you to look after Marketing."

"Natalie will be running point and serving as project manager. Feel free to contact her with regard to any questions or concerns you might have. Of course I want to be kept in touch with any major developments." Bruce said.

"Your contact names at Apotix are located inside of the folders. Make sure to get in touch with them so that we can get this off the ground."

"Geoff Beatty," Bergl read off opening the folder and scanning the contents, he turned to Michelle Alvarez who was sitting next to him, "Who's your contact Michelle?"

"Itai Levy," she said without even opening her folder.

"How do you know that?" Bergl asked amused.

"I met him last night. In fact I hadn't even been there for five minutes before he came up and introduced himself to me and he gave me his card. He seemed actually anxious to get started."

"He was?" Bruce asked with an amused smile.

"Oh yes—in fact I have a meeting with him this afternoon."

"Well I'd say that this is progressing forwards very fast", Bruce said pushing out the chair, "Well now that you all have your marching orders. You know what to do. I'll leave you all to get started. Keep me informed." Bruce made a move to push out of his chair, but Carrington stopped him.

"Mr. Wayne."

"Yes Carlton?" Bruce asked with a smile that did not touch his eyes.

"You know after the gala last night, I came up with some great ideas how we can market this?"

"You did?" Bruce asked glancing at his watch, "And what would that be?"

"Circus clowns."

"What?" Bruce asked. He wondered if the young executive was joking, but his eyes were full of pure sincerity and something else which Bruce could not quite place…

"Yes sir, Circus clowns," Carrington said leaning in towards him, "Think about it! Clowns they're associated with happiness and visit children at hospitals, and bringing joy and smiles to them. We could use that as the major starting point in the marketing campaign."

"That's quite an interesting proposal Carlton. And something that I never thought about before." Bruce gave side long glace to Natalie Sheldon which spoke volumes.

"Carlton why don't you and I speak about it later over lunch," Sheldon said.

"Okay," Carrington said giving everyone at the table a triumphant smile.

"Now if you will all excuse me," Bruce said rising to his feet, "I have a busy day."

_Christ,_ he thought, Circus clowns.

:

Shortly before 11 o'clock Helena made her way up the stairs to Mike's gym. Normally she kept her workouts to early morning around 5am when Mike first opened the doors to the gym. But she decided to skip the early morning workout because she had the day off due to it being professional development day for the full time/permanent staff members at the Catholic Board. Since she wasn't a full time member,as the principal insisted on reminding her, she did not have to attend. Helena hoped that it was something that would change soon, Cass Dixon informed her that there were slated to be a round of retirements in the next year or so. And she would be bound to be a shoe in because of the good job she had done and her popularity with the kids.

Another reason she had skipped the workout because Bruce Wayne had insisted that she stay for breakfast. After leaving lasts nights gala and making a perfunctory search of the police bands, he determined that Gotham City was quiet and did not their help for one night. They drove back to his penthouse where they had made up for the 3 days they had spent apart. Bruce had been as giddy as a school kid when she had left him that morning. She wasn't quite sure whether it was entirely due to their night together or the good news of the merger. But she was nevertheless pleased to see that he was in a good mood.

In actuality she could skip the workout all together but she didn't want to do so. She tended to be very strict and disciplined about her workouts and the time she spent at the gym. Both as a means of keeping in shape for Huntress and both to control her weight. She was proud of her tight toned body and liked keeping it that way. And she knew if she allowed herself to slack off it could get out of hand.

Still working out also was a great and constructive way of keeping off stress and keeping demons at bay. Though she had been trained by her Uncle and Cousine in a various form of martial arts including their own form of street fighting. When Helena had gone off to boarding school in Switzerland she elected to continue her martial arts studies on her own. Every Sunday afternoon after church, she would take the train into Zurich and to go a Dojo run by a bio physicist and fourth level Black Belt by the name of Sato Koichi.

Koichi was from Japan and had emigrated to Switzerland to work in the biochemical field. However after a few years he had decided to open up a martial arts school to teach part time, in the evenings and on weekends. The dojo was located over a confectionary shop in Zurich and Helena used the pocket money she received from her Aunt to pay for lessons.

Koichi had taken a quick shine to her after seeing that she had more enthusiasm, talent, ability than all of the other students combined. He had ended up re-arranging his schedule for the sole purpose of giving her private lessons. Helena was wary at first…and if the nuns at school found out that she was being given private lessons alone by a man, they would have put a stop to it. But to this day Helena could honestly say that Koichi was one of the most influential people on her life. He was the one who had taught her meditation and how to channel her anger and her rage and focus it towards something more productive.

How and why she had never ended up belting one of the snotty rich girls who had harassed her was beyond her. But she supposed that it was because of her upbringing. And she had the respect of many of the nuns who liked the fact that she was smart and studious…the model Catholic girl. She wondered what they would have thought if they could see her today…as Huntress.

Helena smiled at that notion. She walked into the gym at waved to Mike who was sitting at the front desk talking on the phone. He looked up, hung up the phone, then grabbing a towel from the rack behind him walked over and gave it to her.

"What are you smiling about?" Mike asked her.

"Nothing….just stuff," she shrugged taking a towel from him.

Mike grunted.

"Never thought nothin' worth smiling about. Noticed that you've been coming in later in the day."

"Late nights marking papers," Helena replied, "I can barely get up in the mornings. It's easier to come in later in the mornings."

"That all?" he asked his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah Mike that's all," she said.

"He's not here," Mike said with his characteristic bluntness which endeared her to him.

"Thanks," Helena said and headed for the woman's change room. The women's change room was really nothing more than a converted store room. There were a set of lockers and a tiny bathroom with a shower. In all actuality women had been going to Mike's for five years. The gym did not advertise and only catered to professionals or military veterans. Mostly which women were not. However there were a handful of women who did train there. Some were professional bodybuilders, the rest were boxers on the women's Professional Boxing circuit. Helena rarely ran into any of them. But when she did she merely nodded to them in greeting and said nothing more. The gym was not exactly a place for female camaderie and most of them like her were there in order to train so that they can could get they could get in shape. Once Helena had changed, she moved out into the gym proper and over to the squat rack.

She hoisted the bar bell with 50lb plates on either side and began to do her squats. She was at about 15 when she noticed in the mirror against the wall that one of the other members stood off to the side watching her intently a look of lascivious pleasure on his face. Helena was about to stop and tell him to get lost. But Benny Granacci walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. The guy turned around and looked at him

"Take a hike," Granacci said with a jerk of his thumb. The guy scurried off. When Helena had finished her set she placed the bar back down in it's cradle and turned to Grannacci.

"Hey thanks for all of that," She said

"No problem Hon," he said, "You let me know anytime one of these guys give you a hard time."

"Will do," Helena said, with a shrug of her shoulders, "Most of them know…." She began but did not finish. What she did not add was that most of them knew that she was connected to the Panesssa family.

"How's Orietta?" Helena asked him. Orietta was his wife.

"Oh she's fine. She just switched jobs. She's with the department of health now as a secretary."

"And the kids?" she asked referring to his two sons Daniel and Peter.

"Great too."

"Are they doing well at Brentwood?"

"They are doing _great_", Grannacci said with pride, "I got their report last week. All A's and B's—Thanks to you."

"Hey," Helena said holding up her hands in protestation, "I just helped them along and showed them that they weren't as dumb as they thought they were."

Helena had spent her first four months back in the US living with her Uncle and Aunt on their huge estate. After the newness of being in Gotham had worn off, and she had grown tired of sitting around doing nothing. Her Uncle gave her a job doing secretarial work at his construction company. Her duties were mostly clerical with some minor book keeping thrown in. It was there that she had met Grannacci. He had come into the office one day all frustrated. His pay stub wasn't right, it turned out that 10 hours of overtime he had worked wasn't accounted for on the check and he really needed the money.

Helena had helped to resolve his problem after which Grannacci had informed her that she really needed the money because he was saving up to get his sons Daniel and Peter into Brentwood, Gotham's most exclusive prep school. However while Grannacci had saved up enough money to make the tuition the two boys still did not have high enough grades to get in. Helena had told him that she was interested in being a teacher and did not mind tutoring the two boys after school during the evenings. Helena knew that Grannacci wanted his sons to go to Brentwood for more than simply elitist reasons. Being a resident of Little Italy, Grannacci must have wanted to get his sons away from the influence of the mob before it was too late. Boys from working class backgrounds were prime recruiting material for the mob. They tended to see the Italian Mob as glamorous and having the type of power that their fathers, who were often blue colar workers did not have.

Helena could understand Grannacci wanting his son to attend Brentwood not only as a way to get them away from the influence of the mob. But also as a way to improve their prospects later on in life. Grannacci had dropped out of highschool at the age of 16 and had ended up joining the Marine Corps and serving for five years. After his stint had been up, he returned home and had started working for Panessa Construction. Most people knew that it was nothing but a money laundering front for the crime family. Helena was certain that for the most part Grannacci kept his nose clean. But with a wife and growing family it would have not been too far from the norm for Grannacci to do the odd job here and there for the mob. With his background in the Marines and his bulk and size (Grannacci was 6'4 and must have weighed close to 250lbs) he must have been called upon quite often for his bulk and his ability to use a gun. Having his sons attend Brentwood and then move on to a good college would be a way from preventing his sons from having to make the kind of comprises he had to make.

As re-payment for tutoring his sons, Grannacci had gotten Helena a membership at 'Mike's Boxing Gym'. Which had a strict admittance when it came to admitting members; primarily professional body builders, boxers and military and ex-military personnel. However Mike had made an exception for Helena on Grannacci's behalf, as Grannacci had had helped him to fix his leaky roof at half the price. After seeing that she was in good shape and took her workouts very seriously, Mike had given her a membership.

Helena had been a member for four years and could be found at the gym at least five days a week working out. For the most part she was left alone to workout in peace. Most of the members were afraid of bothering the niece of one of the top mafia chieftains in the Gotham. Others thought that she was just stuck up and unfriendly. A reputation which Helena did not bother to dissuade…considering it helped her to achieve her goals of being left alone in peace. She did not come there to pick up guys, she came there to keep in shape so that she could defend the streets of Gotham as Huntress. She now hoped that annoying guy… what was his name? Oprah? Offal? Yeah Offal was a great way to describe him.

She hoped that after he had witnessed her leave with Bruce Wayne he would finally get it through his thick head that she really had no interest in him whatsoever, and probably never would.

"How's work?" Helena asked changing the subject.

Grannacci made a face, "Terrible man. I don't know if Dario knows what he's doing."

Dario Panessa was her cousine and the only surviving son of Tomaso Panessa. Claudio the eldest son had been murdered by Don Cassamento a murder she, or rather the Huntress had been framed for. Dario was more known for his knowledge and collection of foreign sports cars than his street smarts. He had a nitroglycerin temper and was very good at intimidating and bullying people. But he lacked his father's intelligence, business sense or ability to gain the respect of others.

Word right now was that other families were looking covetously at what the Panessa's controlled. Helena wondered how long the Panessa's would last as part of the five families of Gotham.

"Oh what's going on?" Helena asked.

"The other day we were set to start pouring concrete on this new housing project out in the Chestdale area. But the concrete was never delivered. It looked as if there was some sort of shortage and wrong delivery to the wrong place. But still-,"

Suddenly there was a commotion from the part of the of the gym where the weights were stationed. Over the cable machine row, Two burley body builders were in a shoving match.

"You've been on long enough. My turn," beefy guy with no neck and wearing a Black Mettalica T-shirt said.

"Screw off," the other grunted pulling the bar back- he had long greasy blond hair and wore a red tank top, "I ain't finished."

"Yeah you are," the other one replied reaching down and grabbing the bar. The first guy grabbed the bar trying to jerk the bar out of his hand. But his grip was firm. There was a struggle for several minutes. Until the second guy managed to grab the bar out of his hand. The guy sitting down who was wearing a red T-shirt jumped off the seat and made a move to attack him.

They circled each other like prowling jungle cats. Suddenly the one wearing the Black Mettalica T shirt grabbed the guy wearing the red T-shirt by the forearm and slammed him against the metal post of the cable row machine…not just once but at least five times. When he let him go the guy with the red T-shirt slumped to the ground like a rag doll. Metalica T-shirt then bent down and picked him up by the hair and the scruff of his neck as if he weighed no more than a rag doll and slammed him into the bar which connected the seat to the cable row. He slammed his head down in the middle of his face, the sickening crunch of his nose breaking could be heard throughout the noisy gym. Red T-Shirt screamed with pain and blood could be seen gushing out from his face and down on to the concrete floor. Black Mettalica T-shirt kneeled down on Red T-shirts back pinning him to the ground and then taking his hands proceeded to gouge him in the eyes.

"Yah move when I tell ya too!" Mettalica T-shirt screamed at him.

"Holy crap.." Grannacci murmured before running over to the spectacle. He was joined by several other members. It took him along with two other bodybuilders to dislodge red shirt.

"That's enough!" Mike screamed running up to them, "Break it up!"

"Someone call an ambulance!"

Helena stood transfixed staring down at the bleeding man. Part of his skull was completely smashed in. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen this kind of carnage before, but those times the person had had a knife or a machete. She had never ever seen it done with her bare hands. She looked at the hands of the person who had did the damage. He was breathing heavily his hands covered with blood. The force in which one had attacked the other brought to mind what had happened to her the other night while patrol.

"Come and help get him into my office," Mike said of the injured party who was still screaming at the top of his longs. By this time the other bodybuilder had seemed to calm down. He looked in horror at what he had done.

"Oh crap!" he swore, "I didn't mean…I didn't mean-."

"You get out!" Mike said shoving a large meaty finger at the offending party.

"Mike I swear, I swear I didn't mean to!"

"I said get out before I call the cops. And don't come back."

The body builder snuck off like a whipped dog.

"Okay everyone shows over," Mike said turning to look at the group of onlookers, "Go back to what you were doing."

Helena starred for a moment longer and drifted back to the Squat bar. She finished her workout, but only half heartedly her mind disturbed and focused on what she had just seen.

:

Shortly after 11pm, the Red Fox walked down the small corridor of a tenement building in a run down part of Burnley. The halls were dimly lit and pungent smells wafted from various rooms.

He distinctly remembered the smell of Nocturna and the pungent fumes which went into making the drug. He found the Brown Wolf standing there puffing diligently on a cigar.

"So how was the party last night?" he asked.

"Damn waste of time," The Red Fox growled, "Deals done. That's what counts."

The Brown Wolf stopped and looked at him.

"Yeah I guess so," he said with a shrug of his massive shoulders, "When will we be getting the rest of the stuff?"

"It-," Red Fox had been about to say Itai, however he was reminded of the rule they had made for themselves not to use civilian names when in costume, "The Jackal should be getting it tomorrow."

"Great. Let's roll."

"Is Crowne here?"

"No Crowne could not make it. One of his men are standing in for him. Here he is."

Standing at the end of the hall. Stood Jerome Lewis outfitted from head to toe in black. Lewis looked at them with undisguised suspicion. Red Fox wasn't sure as to whether or not it was due to the fact that they wore costumes or the fact that he was unfamiliar with them.

"Where's Crowne?" Red Fox asked.

"Mr. Crowne could not make it. I'm here in his place."

"So you have the authority to speak for him?" Red Fox asked.

"I do."

"And act on his behalf?"

"Yes," Lewis answered annoyed.

"Good," Red Fox answered nodding. They were suddenly startled by the sound of a door opening. They all whipped around and saw a small child of about 3 or 4 years old standing there.

But a woman emerged behind them, her face emaciated her eyes large with fear emerged and grabbed the child and pulling him back inside the apartment slamming the door. Something about it disturbed Red Fox. Between that and what had seen the night before at the Gala put him on edge. The Red Fox turned and walked back to face Lewis.

"You operate out of here?" Red Fox asked.

"Yes," Lewis said after pausing, "We have a base….of operations."

"But people live here. _Children_ live here."

"We don't use all the floors--," Lewis began

"I want it moved," The Red Fox snapped, "Find somewhere else."

"What?" Lewis exploded.

"You heard me!" Red Fox snapped, "I want the labs moved or we don't do business."

"I have to speak with Mr. Crowne…" Lewis said.

"What Lewis, can't make decisions on your own?" Red Fox sneered. Lewis bristled at this.

"Mr. Crown needs to know…"

"Mr. Crown and I had a deal. You tell him I'm not going to operate anywhere with kids. Find somewhere else. Rent a warehouse an office. I don't care. But not a place with families or kids. Leave a message on the message board when you have a new place. I'll be in touch with the drop off for the product."

Red Fox moved to leave but Lewis stopped him.

"The base of operations will be where we say it is." Lewis said as he stood facing them, his hands on his hips.

"This is our place we set it up. You provide product

Red Fox spun around, grabbed Lewes around the throat with his right hand and grabbed Lewis by the crotch with his left hand. He slammed him against the wall. Immobilizing Lewis.

"Get this straight Lewis. This might be your building. But It's our gig. Got it? We say what goes and who's in charge. I don't want the operations to be held here got it?"

Lewis grunted but remained silent.

Red Fox hit him hard in the sternum and increased the grip on his throat and crotch

"Got it?" Red Fox snapped, Lewis gurgled but nodded, "You tell Mr. Crowne that I took him to be a man of his word and don't think that he should be feeding off his people."

"You want to tell me what the hell that was about?" The Brown Wolf asked pulling the Red Fox back when they had gotten outside.

"He was getting up in my face."

"He had a fricken' point." Brown Wolf growled.

"Since when have you been so picky?"

"Since I decided that there's no point in unnecessarily pissing these people off. We need to work with them. I shouldn't have to tell you this. You bein' the peacenick and all." He was referring to Offirs' liberal views and fondness for Arabs in Israel, "This is their territory."

"But it's our goods. We sell to them, all they are is distribution channel. Nothing more. We're in charge here and _no one_ can change that."

And with that the Red Fox marched off.


End file.
